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" There is the nocturnal visitor whom you have so long taken for the ghost of 
your mother. — Page 18. 



CURIOUS STORIES. 

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY DARLEY. 




k The Green Mantle, without uttering a word, entered the house."— Page 112. 



NEW YOBK: 
JAMES MILLER, 522 BROADWAY. 



CURIOUS STORIES ; 



COLLECTED WITH 



A PARTICULAR VIEW TO COUNTERACT 
THE VULGAR BELIEF 



GHOSTS AND APPARITIONS. 



SUiti) Sen Hnflrabfufls, 

PROM DESIGNS OF F O. C. DARLEY. 



J NEW YORK: 
PtlBLI^HED BY JAMES MILLER, 

■ • (SUCCESSOR TO C. 8. FRANCIS * CO.,) 

" 522^4oADWAY. 

1867. 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1846, by 

CAREY Sc HART, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. 



^ 



ANDERSON 8c RAMSAY, Printers, 
a8 Frankfort Street, N. Y. 



CONTENTS. 



Pagb 

Introduction 5 

The Cold Hand 7 

The Harvard College Ghost . . . 12 

The Ghost of Larneville 15 

A London Ghost 20 

The Deserter's Ghost . 23 

Garrick's Ghost. 32 

Apparition of Lord William Petty 34 

The Water Spirit 37 

The Friar's Ghost in the Imperial Palace of Vienna . . 42 

The BearofFriedrichshall 48 

Barbito, or the Spectre of Cuenza .. 52 

The Danger of Tampering with the Fear of Ghosts . . 63 

The Devil and the Prussian Grenadier 70 

The Ghost of Count Walkenried 73 

Extraordinary Confessions of a Ghost 81 

The Village Apparition 88 

The Haunted Castle 97 

The Green Mantle of Venice 106 

The Ghost of General Marceau ........ 183 

The Haunted Inn 186 

3 



INTRODUCTION. 



What is a ghost ? In the popular acceptation or 
the term, it is a visible appearance of a deceased per- 
son. It is called also a spirit ; but, if visible, it must 
be matter; consequently not a spirit. If it is not 
matter, it can only exist in the imagination of the be- 
holder ; and must therefore be classed with the multi- 
farious phantoms which haunt the sick man's couch in 
delirium. 

But ghosts have appeared to more than one person 
at a time ; — how then ? Can he exist in the imagina- 
tion of two persons at once ? That is not probable, 
and we doubt the " authentic" accounts of ghosts ap- 
pearing to more tjian one at a time. The stories we 
are about to tell will show, however, that in a great 
many instances several persons have thought that they 
saw ghosts at the same time, when, in fact, there was 
no ghost in the case ; but substantial flesh and blood 
and bones. 

But what does a ghost represent ? What is it the 
ghost of? Of a man or woman, to be sure. But 
does it appear as a man or woman only ? Is it nude ? 
Oh no ! Oh shocking ! This is contrary to all the 
rules. It always appears dressed? If the man has 
been murdered, it appears in the very clothes he was 



6 INTRODUCTION. 

murdered in, all bloody, with a pale, murdered-looking 
face, and a ghastly wound in the breast, head, sto- 
mach, back or abdominal region, as the case may be ; 
but always in decent clothes. If the person died 
quietly a natural death, in bed ; then the ghost is 
generally clad in long white robes, or a shroud ; but 
still properly dressed. So then, we have the ghost 
of the clothes also — the ghost of the coat and unmen- 
tionables — the ghost of the cocked hat and wig. How 
is this ? 

But to cut the matter short — the whole theory of 
ghosts is too flimsy to bear the rough handling of 
either reason or ridicule. The best way to dissipate 
the inbred horror of supernatural phantoms, which al- 
most all persons derive from nursery tales or other 
sources of causeless terror in early life, is to show by 
example how possible it is to impress upon ignorant 
or credulous persons the firm belief that they behold 
a ghost, when in point of fact no ghost is there. We 
proceed at once to our stories. 



CTTBIOTTS STORIES. 



THE COLD HAND. 

An eminent American artist relates the following story 
of a terrible adventure which befell him during his resi- 
dence in Europe. 

I was travelling from Paris to Brussels in the diligence 
On my arrival one evening at a little village near Dieppe 
— I forget the name of it — I found the village inn so 
crowded that the landlord could not even give me a bed 
upon which I might sleep in the house. He undertook, 
however, to receive my luggage, and give me a lodging 
in the neighbourhood ; and with this arrangement I was 
obliged to be satisfied. 

After having partaken of a comfortable supper, I was 
waited upon by a servant with a lantern, who was to con- 
duct me to the house where I was destined by my evil 
stars to pass the night. It was a lone house, of two stories, 
and quite small, situated on a wide heath, some half a 
mile distant from the inn. There were but three rooms 
on a floor ; and on knocking at the door, I was admitted 

7 



8 GHOST STORIES. 

by a melancholy-looking young woman, whose dress 
and appearance bespoke poverty, although she was neat 
and tidy. 

On being conducted into the apartment which served 
as a kitchen, I found no one there. It appeared that the 
house was inhabited only by this young woman. Seeing 
in my countenance a look of wonder and inquiry, she 
merely remarked, that she was often in the habit of re- 
ceiving lodgers from the inn when it was full, and that 
she would endeavour to afford me a comfortable room for 
the night. 

As it would have been ill-bred to ask any questions 
after this, I sat looking at the fire for half an hour specu- 
lating on the oddity of the thing, when the melancholy 
damsel went on with her sewing, which she had taken 
up as soon as I was seated. At last, being quite fatigued 
with my day's ride, I desired to be shown to my sleeping 
room. It was of very moderate dimensions, and situated 
on the ground floor. In fact it was but barely large 
enough to afford room for a single bed, and a few inches of 
floor on one side of it where I might undress ; and there 
was a window opening near the head of the bed. 

When my hostess had set down the candle, I locked 
the door, undressed myself, threw my clothes upon the 
bed, and was soon fast asleep. I suppose I might have 
slept two hours, so that it was " in the dead waist and 
middle of night," when I was suddenly awakened by a 
cold hand, as it might be the hand of a corpse, drawn 
deliberately over my face, from the forehead to the chin, 
and so passing off a space downward towards my feet ! 
Horror-struck 1 started bolt upright, and shouted in a 
tremulous but loud voice, " Who's there ?" No answer. 
I stretched out my hands, and felt all the three walls of 



THE COLD HAND. 9 

the room near the head of the bed, and found nothing but 
the said bare walls. I then got upon my knees on the 
bed, and felt the walls all round the room, as I could 
easily do, by reason of its exceedingly limited dimensions. 
I then crept under the bed, and fully satisfied myself 
that there was no living creature in the room but myself. 

It was mighty strange ! I could have sworn that I 
had felt that awful cold hand passing over my face. The 
thing was done so coolly and deliberately, that there could 
be no mistake about it. Why did I not grasp the hand ? 
you may say. In fact I was waked out of profound sleep 
by its touch ; and before I had time to seize it, it was 
gone, I stood wondering at the strange and incompre- 
hensible nature of the thing for some minutes, and finally 
arrived at the reluctant admission that I must have been 
dreaming — that it was my imagination — that it was no 
hand at all, but the ghost of a hand. 

In a rery confused and unsettled state of mind, I at 
length got into bed again, and, still unrested from my fa- 
tigue, I speedily fell into a doze. Before I had completely 
lost my consciousness, however, I felt the same appalling 
sensation as before — that horrible corpse-like hand drag- 
ging itself like the body of a serpent over my face. Hor- 
ror of horrors ! I screamed out at the utmost pitch of my 
voice, " Who's there ? Who, what are you ? Speak ! 
A vaunt ! Begone !" 

I sprang instantly out of bed, and felt in the darkness 
all round the room again. There was no one to be found. 
There was nothing but empty space as before. I was, 
to use a homely phrase, completely dumb-founded. The 
former theory of dreams and imaginations would not hold 
good now. The thing was too real. It was a hand, and 
nothing but a hand. I could swear to it. It might be 



10 GHOST STORIES. 

and probably was, the hand of a dead man ; but it had 
skin and bones, and muscles and motion ; and it had sent, 
I thought, all the blood in my body, back to my heart, as 
it passed over my face. It came and went this time more 
suddenly, so that I had not time to grasp at it, both of my 
hands being under the bed-clothes. 

Now I am an indifferently well informed person — . 
something of a philosopher, and never had been a believer 
in ghosts or supernatural appearances of any sort or kind. 
But this thing staggered me. I could not but think, 
with Hamlet, that "there are many things which are not 
dreamt of in your philosophy." Where could the owner 
of the hand be ? He was not in the room. That was 
clear. There had not been time enough for him to escape 
from it, even if the door had not been locked, which it 
was, very securely, as I had just proved. There was no 
fire-place. So he could not have crawled up the chimney. 
There was no closet or hiding-place of any kind. The 
thing was utterly inexplicable. I could make nothing of 
it ; and in a desperate state of doubt and bewilderment 
I once more betook myself to bed, and thought and 
thought about it till my brain ached again ; but all to no 
purpose. 

Fatigue and drowsiness at length overcame me, and I 
slept till morning without further disturbance. It had 
been arranged that I should breakfast at the house where 
I slept. When I sat down, my melancholy hostess 
inquired how I had slept — hoped I had a comfortable 
night. 

" On the contrary," replied I, " the night was rather 
an uncomfortable one for me, such as I never desire to 
pass again." I then proceeded to narrate the whole affair 
as it had passed. She listened with fixed attention, only 



THE COLD HAND. 11 

interrupting me with two or three questions. When I 
had concluded, she said, " It must have been my poor 
drunken brother. I must tell you, sir," she continued, 
" that I have an unfortunate brother, of dissipated habits, 
who lives with me here, since the death of our parents. 
He often goes away and stays for weeks together, without 
my hearing a word of his whereabouts. He probably 
came home in the middle of the night, and not wishing 
to disturb me, went to the window of his bed-room which 
you occupied last night, and thrust in his hand in order 
to ascertain whether any lodger was occupying his bed. 
He was probably too much intoxicated to take any notice 
of your exclamations ; and having found his bed occu- 
pied, he has gone off and found a lodging with some one 
of his acquaintance." 

Whether young hopeful came home in the course of 
the day I never learned ; for in half an hour after this 
conversation I was on my way to Brussels, perfectly 
satisfied with the melancholy young woman's solution 
of the dreadful mystery of the Cold Hand. 



12 



THE HARVARD COLLEGE GHOST. 



Old Harvard, in out time, though frequently troubled 
with spirits, suffered no annoyance whatever with ghosts, 
Science and unbelief had frightened them all away, and 
the increase of population had left no secluded spot in all 
Cambridge suitable for a ghost's promenade. Still, how- 
ever, there lingered some old traditions 'of ghosts, in former 
times, who had made these classic shades thek haunt — 
ghosts real and fictitious. Among those of the latter 
description, one has still dwelt in our memory from the 
narrative of the lamented artist, Washington Allston. 
The story is in substance as follows ■: 

In those reunions which used so often to take place in 
the students' chambers, for conversation, cigar-smoking, 
and social enjoyment, the subject of ghosts had been very 
frequently discussed. Some students from the country 
told long and dreadful stories, well authenticated by their 
grandmothers and maiden aunts, of real, veritable ghosts 
appearing in the old fashioned legitimate way, d ressed in 
long white robes and making appalling revelations of 
crimes and hidden treasures, and then vanishing instantly 
— going off without beat of drum, and leaving the aston- 
ished and horrified spectator in the most pitiable state. 

To these narratives many of the student auditors would 
" seriously incline," while others counterfeited belief, in 
order to induce the narrators to afford them more enter- 
tainment of the same sort. In fact, on one occasion, the 



THE HARVARD COLLEGE GHOST. 13 

whole coterie, with a single exception, declared their 
unqualified belief in ghosts. The stories they had just 
heard were too accurate, circumstantial, and authentic, to 
be doubted. There was no withstanding the accumula- 
tion of evidence. The single dissenter from this opinion, 
however, stubbornly declared that there must be some 
mistake. The thing w r as too absurd in itself to gain his 
belief. He would never believe in ghosts till he should 
see one with his own eyes. As for fearing them, " he 
would like to see the ghost that could frighten him." 

One of his fellow students, as far from a real belief in 
supernatural appearances as himself, resolved, neverthe- 
less, to put the hero's courage to the proof. 

Accordingly on the next evening after that when this 
remarkable conversation took place, at a very late hour, 
he dressed himself up in white, and quietly glided into 
the chamber of his companion, who was lying alone in 
his bed and wide awake. 

The ghost-student, knowing that his friend always 
slept with loaded pistols under his pillow, had previously 
taken care to draw out the bullets from them ; for he was 
too well acquainted with the impetuous character of the 
other to doubt that he would use them on such an occasion. 
On the appearance of the spectre, the hero sat up in bed 
and very deliberately took a survey of him, as well as the 
"struggling moonbeam's misty light" shining in at the 
windows would permit. The ghost glided across the 
room, and, standing before the bed, raised his hand in an 
awful and menacing manner, according to the most 
approved fashion of ghostdom. Still the whole perform- 
ance failed to shake the firm nerves of the Harvard 
ghost-seer. He only laughed, and shouted aloud in melo- 
dramatic form of speech, " Vanish ! I fear you not !" 
2 



14 GHOST STORIES. 

The spectre was motionless, still standing and gazing 
upon him with ghastly masked face. Our hero, at length, 
determined to put the apparition to the proof, and "teach 
him never to come there no more/' took one of the pistols 
from beneath his pillow and fired it point blank in the 
spectre's face. When the smoke cleared away — there 
stood the grim figure, as before, immovable and appa- 
rently invulnerable. Instantaneously the appalling belief 
came over the mind of the unhappy beholder that he 
was actually in the presence of a spirit from the other 
world. All his preconceived opinions — all his habits of 
thought, all his vaunted courage vanished at once. His 
whole being was changed ; and he instantly fell into the 
most frightful convulsions. 

His companion, who had been watching the effect of 
his experiment, became alarmed in his turn ; and called 
in others from the entry who had participated in the ill- 
timed joke. Medical aid was called in. and every appli- 
ance resorted to for his recovery. But it was all in 
vain. Convulsion succeeded convulsion; and the unfor- 
tunate youth never recovered sufficient consciousness to 
be made aware of the trick that had been played upon 
him, until the melancholy scene was closed by his 
untimely death. 

This story has its moral. The mind of man is too 
delicate and complicated a structure to be tampered with 
by experiments of this description. Whatever may be 
one's opinion of ghosts, it is dangerous to counterfeit any 
thing of this kind for the purpose of producing terror in 
the mind of anotner 



15 



THE GHOST OF LARNEVILLE. 



Madame Deshoulieres, the French poetess, was 
much admired by her countrymen ; yet, except her pas- 
torals, the subjects chosen by her have little interest, ana 
rather evince strength of mind than harmony of verse or 
delicacy of feeling". Indeed, they are what might have 
been expected from a character endued with the self-pos- 
session displayed in the following adventure, in which she 
conducted herself with an intrepidity and coolness which 
would have done honour to a hero. 

Madame Deshoulieres was invited by the Count and 
Countess de Larneville to pass some time at their chateau, 
several leagues from Paris. On her arrival, she was freely 
offered the choice of all the bed-chambers in the mansion 
except one, which, from the strange noises that had been 
for some time nocturnally heard within it, was generally 
believed to be haunted, and as such had been deserted. 
Madame Deshoulieres was no sooner informed of this cir- 
cumstance by her friends, than, to their great surprise and 
terror, she immediately declared her resolution of occupy- 
ing this dreaded "room in preference to any other. The 
Count looked aghast as she disclosed this determination, 
and in a tremulous voice entreated her to give up so rash 
an intention ; since, however brave curiosity might at 
present make her, it was more than probable that in her 
situation she would pay for its gratification with her life. 
The Countess, observing that all that her husband said 



16 GHOST STORIES. 

failed of intimidating the high-spirited Madame Des- 
houlieres, now added her persuasions to divert her friend 
from an enterprise from which the bravest man might 
shrink appalled. "What have we not to fear, then," 
she added, " for a woman on the eve of becoming a 
mother? Let me conjure you, if not for your own sake, 
for that of your unborn infant, give up your daring plan." 
All these arguments, repeated over and over again, were 
insufficient to shake the determined purpose of the ad- 
venturer. Her courage rose superior to these represen- 
tations of the dangers to which she was going to expose 
herself, because she was convinced that they owed their 
colouring to superstition acting upon weak minds : she 
entertained no faith in the " fleshless arm" of a departed 
spirit, and from an immaterial one her life was safe. 

Her noble host and hostess pleaded, pitied, blamed, but 
at length yielded to her wish of taking possession of the 
haunted chamber. Madame Deshoulieres found it grand 
and spacious — the windows dark from the thickness of 
the walls — the chimney antique and of a cavernous 
depth. As soon as madame was undressed, she stepped 
into bed, ordered a large candle to be placed on a stand 
near it, and enjoining hevfemme de chambre to shut the 
door securely, dismissed her. Having' provided herself 
with a book, according to custom, she calmly read her 
usual time, then sunk to repose ; from this she was soon 
roused by a noise at the door — it opened, and the sound 
of footsteps succeeded. Madame Deshoulieres immedi- 
ately decided that this must be the supposed ghost, and 
therefore addressed it with an assurance that, if it hoped 
to frighten her from her purpose of detecting the impos- 
ture which had created such foolish alarm throughout the 
castle, it would find itself disappointed in the attempt ; 



THE GHOST OF LARNEVILLE 17 

for she was resolutely bent on discovering and exposing 
it at all hazards. This threat she reiterated to no purpose, 
for no answer was returned. At length the intruder 
came in contact with a large screen, which it overturned 
so near the bed, that, getting entangled in the curtains, 
which played loosely on their rings, they returned a 
sound so sharp, that any one under the influence of fear 
would have taken it for the shrill scream of an unquiet 
spirit, but madame was perfectly undismayed, as she 
afterwards declared. On the contrary, she continued to 
interrogate the nocturnal visitor, whom she suspected to 
be one of the domestics ; but it still maintained an un- 
broken silence, though nothing could be less quiet in its 
movements, for it now ran against the stand on which 
was placed the heavy candlestick, which fell with a 
thundering noise. In fine, tired of all these exertions, it 
came and rested itself against the foot of the bed. Ma- 
dame Deshoulieres was now more decidedly called upon 
to evince all that firmness of mind and intrepidity of 
spirit of which she had boasted ; and well did she justify 
the confidence she had placed in her own courage, for, 
still retaining her self-possession, she exclaimed, " Ah ! 
now I shall ascertain what thou art ; " at the same time 
she extended both her hands towards the place against 
which she felt that the intruder was resting. They 
came in contact with two soft velvety ears, which she 
firmly grasped, determined to retain them till day should 
lend its light to discover to whom or to what they be- 
longed. Madame found her patience put to some trial, 
but not her strength, for nothing could be more unresist- 
ing and quiet than the owner of the imprisoned ears. 
Day at length released her from the awkward, painfu- 
position, in which she had remained for so many hours, 
2* 



18 GHOST STORIES. 

and discovered her prisoner to be Gros-Blanc, a large dog 
belonging to the chateau, and as worthy, if fidelity and 
honesty deserve the title, as any of its inhabitants. Far 
from resenting the bondage in which Madame Deshou- 
lieres had so long kept him, he licked the hands which 
he believed had been kindly keeping his ears warm all 
night ; while Madame Deshoulieres enjoyed a hearty 
laugh at this ludicrous end to an adventure, for the en- 
counter of which she had braced her every nerve. 

In the mean time, the Count and Countess, wholly 
given up to their fears, had found it impossible to close 
their eyes during the night. The trial to which their 
friend had exposed herself grew more terrible to their 
imagination the more they dwelt upon it, till they at 
length persuaded themselves that death would be the in- 
evitable consequence. With these forebodings they pro- 
ceeded as soon as it was light to the apartment of Ma- 
dame Deshoulieres — scarcely had they courage to enter it, 
or to speak when they had done so. From this state of 
petrifaction they were revived by their friend undrawing 
her curtains, and paying them the compliments of the 
morning with a triumphant look. She then related all 
that had passed with an impressive solemnity, and hav- 
ing roused intense curiosity to know the catastrophe, she 
smilingly pointed to Gros-Blanc, as she said to the Count, 
" There is the nocturnal visitor whom you have so long 
taken for the ghost of your mother;" for such he had 
concluded it, from having been the last person who had 
died in the chateau. The Count looked at his wife — 
then at the dog — and blushed deeply, not knowing 
whether it were better to laugh or be angry. But Ma- 
dame, who possessed a commanding manner, which at the 
same time awed and convinced, ended this state of irreso- 



THE GHOST OF LARNEVILLE. 19 

(ution by saying — "No, no, Monsieur, you shall no longer 
continue in an illusion which long indulgence has en- 
deared you to. I will complete my task, and emancipate 
your mind from -the shackles of superstition, by proving 
to you that all which has so Jong disturbed the peace of 
your family has arisen from natural causes." Madame 
arose, made her friends examine the lock of the door, the 
wood of which was so decayed as to render the locking 
it useless against a very moderate degree of strength. 
This facility of entrance had been evidently the cause of 
Gros-Blanc, who liked not sleeping out of doors, making 
choice of this room. " The rest is easily accounted for : 
Gros-Blanc smelt, and wished to possess himself of the 
candle, in attempting which he committed all the blun- 
ders, and caused all the noises, which have annoyed me 
this night ; and he would have taken possession of my 
bed, also, if he had not given me an opportunity of seiz- 
ing his ears. Thus are the most simple events magnified 
into omens of fearful and supernatural augury." 



20 



A LONDON GHOST. 



In the year 1704, a gentleman, to all appearance of 
large fortune, took furnished lodgings in a house in Soho- 
square. After he had resided there some weeks with his 
establishment, he lost his brother, who had lived at 
Hampstead, and who on his death-bed particularly de- 
sired to be interred in the family vault in Westminster 
Abbey. The gentleman requested his landlord to permit 
him to bring the corpse of his brother to his lodgings, 
and to make arrangements there for the funeral. The 
landlord without hesitation signified his compliance. 

The body, dressed in a white shroud, was accordingly 
brought in a very handsome coffin, and placed in the 
great dining-room. The funeral was to take place the 
next day, and the lodger and his servants went out to 
make the necessary preparations for the solemnity. He 
stayed out late ; but this was no uncommon thing. The 
landlord and his family, conceiving that they had no oc- 
casion to wait for him, retired to bed as usual, about 
twelve o'clock. One maid-servant was left up to let him 
in, and to boil some water, which he had desired might 
be ready for making tea on his return. The girl was ac- 
cordingly sitting all alone in the kitchen, when a tall, 
spectre-looking figure entered, and clapped itself down 
in a chair opposite to her. 

The maid was by no means one of the most timid of her 
sex ; but she was terrified beyond expression, lonely as 



A LONDON GHOST. 21 

she was, at this unexpected apparition. Uttering a loud 
scream, she flew out like an arrow at a side door, and 
hurried to the chamber of her master and mistress. 
Scarcely had she awakened them, and communicated to 
the whole family some portion of the fright with which 
she was herself overwhelmed, when the spectre, enveloped 
in a shroud and with a face of death-like paleness, made 
its appearance, and sat down in a chair in the bed-room, 
without their having observed how it entered. The 
worst of all was, that this chair stood by the door of the 
bed-chamber, so that not a creature could get away with- 
out passing close to the apparition, which rolled its glar- 
ing eyes so frightfully, and so hideously distorted its fea- 
tures, that they could not bear to look at it. The master 
and mistress crept under the bed-clothes, covered with 
profuse perspiration, while the maid-servant sunk nearly 
insensible by the side of the bed. 

At the same time the whole house seemed to be in an 
uproar ; for though they had covered themselves over 
head and ears, they could still hear the incessant noise 
and clatter, which served to increase their terror. 

At length all became perfectly still in the house. The 

landlord ventured to raise his head, and to steal a glance 

at the chair by the door ; but behold, the ghost was gone ! 

Sober reason began to resume its power. The poor girl 

was brought to herself after a good deal of shaking. In 

a short time, they plucked up sufficient courage to quit 

me bed-room, and to commence an examination of the 

louse, which they expected to find in great disorder. 

Nor were their anticipations unfounded. The whole 

.ouse had been stripped by artful thieves, and the gen- 

!eman had decamped without paying for his lodging. It 

arned out that he was no other than an accomplice of the 



22 



GHOST STORIES. 



notorious Arthur Chambers, who was executed at Tyburn 
in 1706 ; and that the supposed corpse was this arch- 
rogue himself, who had whitened his hands and face 
with chalk, and merely counterfeited death. About mid- 
night he quitted the coffin, and appeared to the maid 
in the kitchen. When she flew up stairs, he softly 
followed her, and, seated at the door of the chamber, he 
acted as a sentinel, so that his industrious accomplices 
were enabled to plunder the house without the least mo- 
estation. 



23 



THE DESERTER'S GHOST. 



Experience seems to justify the notion formerly more 
prevalent than at present, that one who has died a vio- 
lent death is more likely to return to terrify the living 
than those who have been gathered in peace to their 
fathers. The experience of the writer of the following 
narrative once confirmed this notion in a manner equally 
convincing and frightful. It is calculated to lower the 
tone of the obstinate skeptic, who denies the possibility 
of the re-appearance of deceased persons, and especially 
such as have been prematurely cut off. It may fare with 
them as it did with him. Their evil genius, to punish 
them for their unbelief, may lie in ambush for them, and 
expose their credulity, were it only for a short time. 
The story of his instructive adventure is as follows : — 

At the conclusion of the Seven Years' War, the num- 
ber of foreigners in the Prussian army was very great. 
Many, who were fond of the wild military life in time of 
war, had no notion of bowing their necks in peaceful gar- 
risons to the yoke of strict subordination. Not a few, 
unmindful of their duty and their oath, sought to escape ; 
and among the French, in particular, desertion was very 
frequent. It was found necessary to adopt rigorous mea- 
sures to put a stop to this spreading evil. 

Accordingly, in a certain garrison, a young French 
musqueteer, named Idee, who, impelled by an ardent de- 
sire to revisit his native country, had thrice deserted, was 



24 GHOST STORIES. 

sentenced to be hanged. A gibbet was erected for the 
purpose, near one of the town-gates, not far from which 
there was a military guard-house. The sentence was 
executed on the 31st of August, 1764, and the body of 
Idee was then buried without the town, near a spot where 
the women were accustomed to dry their linen. It was 
natural to expect that the culprit would pay nocturnal 
visits to such of the good-wives as kept watch over the 
linen hung out there to dry. He actually appeared almost 
every night, and drove the terrified creatures from the 
place. Such as may suppose that this was only some sly 
thief concealed under the disguise of a spectre, need but 
be informed, that the washerwomen were never more se- 
cure from the depredations of thieves than at this time ; and 
that, as soon as the morning dawn had scared away the 
nocturnal visitor, they always found their linen exactly 
as they had left it. This was half a proof, at least, that 
the apparition was of supernatural origin. 

The rumour that Idee's ghost walked, was soon spread 
throughout the whole town, and became the general topic 
of conversation in every company. The unsupported 
statements of the washerwomen might have been liable 
to suspicion ; but their veracity was established beyond 
the possibility of doubt by the declarations of the sentinels, 
who affirmed that they had seen the malefactor, sometimes 
m one place, sometimes in another. 

The unfortunate man had been executed and interred 
in a white coat bordered with black ribbon, a present from 
some compassionate females of the town. It was in this 
attire that he appeared again after his death. The story 
of this spectre, which spread universal consternation, re- 
ceived daily additions, like a rolling snow-ball. The un- 
happy wight grew bolder by degrees. About four months 



25 

after his execution, he stalked, with a melancholy air, 
and with a lantern in his hand, before the faces of the 
sentinels, to the gallows erected for him within the town, 
and after surveying it intently on all sides, suddenly 
vanished. This was seen not only by the sentries, but 
by several other soldiers on guard. 

The belief in the reality of the ghost now gained 
strength ; for it had appeared not merely to old women, 
but to warriors whose valour had been proved beyond all 
doubt in many a battle, and to whom more courage and 
presence of mind are therefore justly ascribed than to 
any other class of persons. Even those whom a superior 
education and a mind unfettered by prejudice had hitherto 
preserved from womanish fears, now felt a thrill of invo- 
luntary horror, when chance threw them at night into 
the way of the resuscitated malefactor. 

Among these last, the narrator classed himself. At 
that time eighteen years old, he was serving as a common 
soldier in that garrison, but disbelieved the whole story 
of the spectre, because he had neither seen this nor any 
other. Though by birth a German, he had from his 
situation acquired at an early age considerable fluency in 
the French language, so that he was employed as inter- 
preter during the confinement of Idee, who understood 
not a word of German. He had frequently been on duty 
as a sentinel with this unfortunate man, and was tho- 
roughly acquainted both with his person and sentiments. 
He never expected to behold his executed comrade 
again ; but his incredulity was at last signally punished. 
We shall continue the narrative in his own words : — 

On the 7th of January, 1765, 1 was on duty at the gate, 
about fifty paces from which stood the gibbet on which Idee 
was hanged. The officer of the watch had a friend with 



26 GHOST STORIES. 

him until ten o'clock. When he had retired, I was prepar- 
ing to lie down on the bench in the soldiers' room to get a 
nap, when the officer wished me to go with him into his 
apartment, to bear him company. I was excessively 
sleepy, and therefore frankly confessed that I was quite 
unfit for the purpose : but the officer was so urgent, that 1 
could not refuse to take a pipe of excellent tobacco and a 
glass of good beer with him. Over these I soon reco- 
vered my usual flow of spirits. 

"Do you know the reason, Pressler," said the officer, 
"why I have desired your company ?" 

"I suppose," replied I, "because, out of the twenty- 
four who are on duty here, you like my company best." 

"Certainly; but I have a particular reason besides." 

" What is that ?" 

"I am afraid." 

" Is it possible ?" cried I, with a burst of laughter. 
" You forget that there are three sentinels before the 
house." 

"No matter if there were thirteen. Last Christmas 
night Idee put them all to the rout, when, in his ludicrous 
attire, he contemplated the gallows by the light of his 
lantern. I am no believer in apparitions of this kind, 
and yet I am now suffering for the sins of my su- 
perstitious nurse. The deuse take the confounded 
gossips !" 

We both laughed, smoked our pipes, and chatted 
away. The clock struck eleven. The relief sallied from 
the soldiers' room ; the men repairing to their respective 
posts, some of which were at a considerable distance. In 
less than a quarter of an hour, those who had been re- 
lieved came back. We heard the usual cry of the 
sentries at a quarter to twelve, and then again at half-past 



THE DESERTER'S GHOST. 27 

twelve. Immediately afterwards we heard hasty foot- 
steps, like those of many persons together, rushing into 
the house and into the soldiers' room opposite to that 
where we were sitting. 

"What is that?" cried the amazed lieutenant. 

" I verily believe," replied I, somewhat alarmed, u that 
the sentinels have run away again from their posts." 
Scarcely were the words out of my mouth, before some- 
thing rapped at our door. We looked at each other; my 
companion changed colour, and it is not unlikely that he 
may have made the same observation respecting me. 
The candle on the table burned dimly, and thus rendered 
the scene that ensued the more awful. 

The knocking was repeated : I took courage and cried, 
•'Come in!" and in stalked with solemn pace the un- 
fortunate Idee himself in the very dress in which he 
suffered. 

Our consternation at this sight is not to be described. 
We sprung from our seats : I flew to the lieutenant, and 
the lieutenant to me. We sought refuse between the 
table and the settle, and both sank terrified almost to death 
upon the latter. We durst scarcely raise our eyes for 
fear of encountering those of the spectre, which still gazed 
steadfastly at us in silence. 

"Do you know me, lieutenant ?" at length cried the 
intruder, in a hollow sepulchral tone, but yet in pure 
German. These words enabled me to recover my scat- 
tered senses. This cannot be the Idee who was hanged, 
thought I to myself, for he could not speak a word of 
German, and he cannot possibly have learned the lan- 
guage so expeditiously in the other world. The idea 
which naturally followed, that it was a trick o^ some 
Impudent fellow to amuse himself at our expense, hurt 



28 



GHOST STORIES. 



my pride, and I determined to investigate the matter. 
Mustering all my courage, I snuffed the candle, and 
taking it in my left hand advanced towards the figure. 
My blood curdled as I approached nearer, and I was 
almost tempted to turn back. Luckily my good genius 
imparted to me spirit and strength. I rushed upon the 
spectre, collared it, and behold — it was flesh and bone. 

With this conviction all my energies suddenly returned. 
I thrust the supposed culprit violently against the door, 
which stood ajar, so as to shut it. " Scoundrel, who are 
you ?" cried I, in a tone that was none of the gentlest. 
I received no answer. My unexpected treatment seemed 
to terrify the ghost quite as much as he had before terrified 
us. Nevertheless my speedily revived courage had well- 
nigh left me as speedily, when, after again violently 
snaking the figure, no answer was returned. 

At length it crouched towards a corner, and began to 
cry out lamentably: "Don't hurt me, sir!" A smart 
thump on the head accompanied the repetition of my 
question : " Scoundrel, who are you ?" 

" I am Z , secretary to ,"* stammered the 

affrighted ghost. These few words restored to my 
hitherto speechless officer the use of his tongue. Ex- 
pressions of the most vehement indignation, curses, and 
imprecations as coarse as were ever uttered by the 
roughest soldier, were poured forth by him upon the 
audacious secretary. " Stab the dog ! stab him to the 
neart L" cried he to me repeatedly. 

Notwithstanding the passion? in which I was myself, 



* The writer has not given the names, because, though the 
nero of the story is dead, yet many of his respectable family 
are still living- 




™ I thrust the supposed culprit violently against the door, which stood ajar, 
so as to shut it." — Page 28. 



THE DESERTER'S GHOST. 29 

I fortunately recollected that there are cases in which it 
ts not right to obey our superiors ; for I was still rational 
enough to recognise a man in the dog. Instead of spill- 
ing the blood of a ghost, I began to question the nocturnal 
adventurer in the closest manner concerning the fool's 
dress, which had rendered him so terrible to us, 

" I merely wished to show the lieutenant my masquerade 
dress," said he. 

The fellow was dressed in a sort of shepherd's habit, 
which looked just like that in which the Frenchman was 
executed, excepting that, on closer examination, it was 
bordered, not with black, but with dark green ribbon. 
This colour, as everybody knows, appears black by a 
faint light, and the imagination is apt to represent it, es- 
pecially in particular cases, as coal black. But as the 
ghost had neither crook nor pouch, and these things are 
indispensably necessary to the characteristic accoutre- 
ments of a shepherd, the lieutenant took occasion to read 
him another severe lecture on his conduct, and then I 
bundled him out at the door. 

Our blood had not yet time to cool, nor had we relighted 
our pipes, which had gone out during this scene, when 
something tapped timidly at the window behind me. 
" The devil of a fellow is at the window again already I" 
cried the lieutenant. I looked out, and sure enough there 
stood the ghost, which, as one would have supposed, 
ought to have been very glad to have escaped with a 
whole skin. We were now thoroughly acquainted with 
the nature of the phantom; we had palpably convinced 
ourselves of his corporeal existence ; and yet we could 
not repress an emotion of terror, when the imaginary 
Idee again appeared at the window. 

" WeU, is not the farce yet over ?" cried I : " what do 
3 



30 GHOST STORIES. 

you want now ?" " Only to request the lieutenant to or- 
der the gate to be opened for me, that I may go home." 
It should be observed that he lived in the suburbs, 

" Tell the sentinel to let you out." 

"There is none there." 

I closed the window in dismay. " What the devil !" 
cried the enraged lieutenant, springing from his seat — 
"No sentry there !" — Owing to the severity of the Prus- 
sian military laws, the affair was now likely to be attend- 
ed with the most serious consequences. A seasonable 
allusion to our awn adventure operated according to my 
wishes on the rigid lieutenant. I prevailed upon him to 
occupy with me for a moment the place of the sentries, 
and then we hastened to restore order in the guard-house. 

" Where are the sentries ?" asked the lieutenant. 
"They have come in," was the reply, "because the 
spectre appeared every moment." He gave the timorous 
fellows a severe reprimand, and drove them with some 
smart strokes of his cane to their post. Glad to come off 
so easily for a misdemeanor which was punishable with the 
gauntlet, they hastened back to their station ; but no soon- 
er did they perceive the ghost standing by the gate, than 
back they bounced again. The lieutenant then ordered 
a subaltern officer to open the gate. " Directly," was 
the reply, and he fumbled about a long time as if he 
could not find the keys. 

At length he began to proceed leisurely towards the 
gate ; but no sooner had he set eyes on the self-styled 
shepherd, than he ran back to the guard-house as if the 
devil had been at his heels. This subaltern was by no 
means a person of the ordinary stamp, but a man of good 
education, who was advantageously distinguished by valu- 
able attainments above most of his equals in rank, but he, 



THE DESERTER'S GHOST. 31 

,00, proved the influence of juvenile impressions, and of 
the delusions of the imagination over sober reason. 

"Will you let the man out ?" said the officer, in an an- 
gry tone. 

'.* Not I, indeed, sir," replied he peremptorily, handing 
the key to the lieutenant. The latter took it, and silently 
opened the gate. The ghost bounded away, rejoiced at 
not receiving something to take along with him. 

To judge from circumstances, Z. had designedly got 
up the farce of this apparition. In his general conduct 
he manifested a fondness for tricks .of this kind. He pos- 
sessed at that time a property of fifty thousand dollars, 
which, by one silly prank or other, he melted down in a 
few years to less than one half. I was heartily glad that 
our adventure put an end to the town-talk, and that it had 
furnished my reason with fresh weapons from the sphere 
of experience for contending with superstition ; for many 
of those who had seen the spectre before it was unmasked, 
were convinced, from experience, and from what they 
deemed an undeniable fact, that at least some apparitions 
are real. Incredulous as I was myself before I went 
into the officer's room, who knows what would have be- 
come of my ghostly philosophy, had this spectre acted a 
little more consistently, and talked French, instead of 
rousing me from my dream of horror, and restoring my 
presence of mind by a question in High German ! 



32 



GARRICK'S GHOST. 



In the records of his life by Taylor, we read of a tricK 
}f the great actor, who, like Brinsley Sheridan, had an 
inkling for practical jokes. It was on a professional visit 
of Dr. Moncey. " Garrick was announced for King 
Lear on that night, and when Moncey saw him in bed, 
he expressed his surprise, and asked him if the play was 
to be changed. Garrick was dressed, but had his night- 
cap on, and a quilt was drawn over him to give the ap- 
pearance of being too ill to rise. Dr. M. expressed his 
surprise, as it was time for Garrick to be at the theatre 
to dress for King Lear. Garrick, in a languid and 
whining tone, told him that he was too much indisposed 
to perform himself, but that there was an actor named 
Marr, so like him in figure, face, and voice, and so admi- 
rable a mimic, that he had ventured to trust the part to 
him, and was sure the audience would not perceive the 
difference. Pretending that he began to feel worse, he 
requested Moncey to leave the room in order that he 
might get a little sleep, but desired him to attend the 
theatre, and let him know the result. As soon as the 
doctor quitted the room, Garrick jumped out of the bed 
and hastened to the theatre. Moncey attended the per- 
formance. Having left Garrick in bed, he was bewil- 
dered by the scene before him, sometimes doubting, and 
sometimes being astonished at the resemblance between 
Garrick and Marr. At length, finding that the audience 



garrick's ghost. 33 

were convinced of Garrick's identity, Moncey began to 
suspect a trick had been practised upon him, and in- 
stantly hurried to Garrick's house at the end of the plav ; 
but Garrick was too quick for him, and was found by 
Moncey in the same state of illness. These are truths 
which are indeed stranger than fiction. 



34 



APPARITION OF LORD WILLIAM PETTY. 



It is affirmed that Lord William Petty, who was un- 
der the care of Dr. Priestley, the librarian, and the Rev. 
Mr. Jervis, his tutor, was attacked, at the age of seven, 
with inflammation of the lungs, for which Mr. Alsop was 
summoned to Bowood. After a few days, the young no- 
bleman seemed to be out of danger ; but, on a sudden 
relapse, the surgeon was again sent for in the evening. 

It was night before this gentleman reached Bowood, 
but an unclouded moon showed every object in unequivo- 
cal distinctness. Mr. Alsop had passed through the lodge 
gate, and was proceeding to the house, when, to his as- 
tonishment, he saw Lord William coming towards him, 
in all the buoyancy of childhood, restored, apparently, 
to health and vigour. "I am delighted, my dear lord," 
he exclaimed, " to see you, but, for Heaven's sake, go im- 
mediately within doors ; it is death to you to be here at 
this time of night." The child made no reply, but, turn- 
ing round, was quickly out of sight. Mr. Alsop, un- 
speakably surprised, hurried to the house. Here all was 
distress and confusion, for Lord William had expired a 
few minutes before he reached the portico. 

This sad event being with all speed announced to the 
Marquis of Lansdowne, in London, orders were soon re- 
ceived at Bowood for the interment of the corpse and the 
arrangement of the funeral procession. The former was 
directed to take place at High Wickham, in the vault 



APPARITION OF LORD WILLIAM PETTY. 35 

which contained the remains of Lord William* s mother ; 
the latter was appointed to halt at two specified places dur- 
ing the two nights on which it would be on the road. 
Mr. Jervis and Dr. Priestley attended the body. On the 
first day of the melancholy journey, the latter gentleman, 
who had hitherto said little on the subject of the appear- 
ance to Mr. Alsop, suddenly addressed his companion 
vvith considerable emotion in nearly these words : " There 
are some very singular circumstances connected with this 
event, Mr. Jervis, and a most remarkable coincidence be- 
tween a dream of the late Lord William and our present 
mournful engagement. A few weeks ago, as I was pass- 
ing by his room door one morning, he called me to his bed- 
side : * Doctor,' said he, ' what is your Christian name V 
* Surely,' said I, ' you know it is Joseph.' ' Well, then,' 
replied he, in a lively manner, ' if you are Joseph, you 
can interpret a dream for me, which I had last night. I 
dreamed, doctor, that I set out upon a long journey ; that 
I stopped the first night at Hungerford, whither I went 
without touching the ground ; that I flew from thence to 
Salt Hill, where I remained the next night, and arrived 
at High Wickham on the third day, where my dear mam- 
ma, beautiful as an angel, stretched out her arms and 
caught me within them.' Now," continued the doctor, 
"these are precisely the places where the dear child's 
corpse will remain on this and the succeeding night before 
we reach his mother's vault, which is finally to receive 
it." 

Now here is a tissue of events as strange as they are 
circumstantial ; and I might set myself to illustrate the 
apparition by the agitated state of Mr. Alsop's mind, were 
it not for the utter fallacy of this mysterious story, on 
which the late Rev. Mr. Jervis, of Brompton, whom I 



36 GHOST STORIES. 

knew and esteemed, deemed it essential to publish " Re- 
marks" in the year 1831. From these you will learn 
that Mr. Warner is in error regarding the " address, de- 
signation, and age of the Hon. William Granville Petty, 
the nature and duration of his disorder, and the name of 
the place of interment." And then it comes out that 
neither Dr. Priestley nor Mr. Jervis attended the funeral, 
nor conversed at any time on the circumstance ; and, re- 
garding Mr. Alsop's death-bed declaration, Mr. Jervis, 
who was in his intimate confidence, never heard of such 
a thing until Mr. Warner's volume was pointed out to him. 
This strange story, believed by good and wise men, in- 
volved a seeming mystery, until we read in Mr. Jervis 's 
"Remarks" one simple sentence in reference to the gen- 
tlemen by whom it was first told — that " the enthusiasm 
of his nature predisposed him to entertain some visionary 
and romantic notions of supernatural appearances." 



37 



THE WATER SPIRIT. 



In January, 1734, the ship Elizabeth, Captain Walker, 
lay at anchor in the harbour of Cadiz, and had- on board 
Mr. Burnet, a surgeon, and a native of Ireland, who was 
returning to his native country. Being a very intelligent 
man, and a most entertaining companion, the Captain con- 
ceived a particular friendship for him. One day the 
conversation turned on apparitions. Burnet seemed to 
be a firm believer in ghosts ; at least he related a great 
number of extraordinary stories, which might be consider- 
ed to argue such a belief. Walker, on the contrary, sat- 
isfied in his own mind of the impossibility of supernatural 
appearances, endeavoured to convince his friend of the 
absurdity and defective evidence of those stories ; and de- 
clared that nothing on earth could induce him to adopt 
other notions at the expense of his reason, and convert 
him to the faith in the visible appearance of the spirits of 
deceased persons. 

This, perhaps, inconsiderate declaration suggested to 
Mr. Burnet the idea of showing his friend, how reason, 
bound by the nature of man, and still more by education 
and prejudice, in the shackles of imagination, is frequently 
tyrannized over by the Matter. 

About noon, they were standing with several of the 

crew on the forecastle, and looking at the Governor's 

guard-boats bringing-to in the bay, when Burnet, who 

was known to be an excellent swimmer, offered to bet that 

4 



38 GHOST STORIES. 

he would leap overboard and swim under water all the 
way to those boats, close to which he would suddenly 
emerge, and terrify the men on guard, who would take 
him for a water spirit. 

The bet was accepted ; Burnet stripped, sprung into 
the water, and was presently out of sight. The crew ran 
forward, and all fixed their eyes steadfastly on the guard- 
boats, in expectation of seeing him rise. They waited in 
vain ; he did not make his appearance, for he had under- 
taken more than he could accomplish. A considerable 
time elapsed,: all hopes of ever seeing him again were 
wholly extinguished ; he must certainly have perished. 
All on board were in the utmost uneasiness and dismay, 
and especially those who had wagered with him, and who 
were now tormented by the idea that they were in some 
measure accessary to his death. 

This melancholy event threw a damp over the spirits 
of the whole crew. At dusk, Walker retired with some 
of his friends to his cabin, where the loss of their agreeable 
companion was the only, and by no means cheering to- 
pic of their conversation. 

The party broke up, and the Captain went to bed in a 
state of extraordinary dejection. His mind was so deeply 
engaged with the lamentable fate of his friend, that he 
found it impossible to sleep. He had thus lain for a con- 
siderable time ; the moon shone bright through the win- 
dow of the cabin, when he perceived that the door opened. 
He turned his eyes that way, and discovered something 
which could not but astonish him, for he fancied that it 
resembled a human figure. Presently recovering from 
his surprise, he would fain have persuaded himself that 
it was only a phantom of his disturbed imagination, and 
looked another way. His eyes, however, turned instinct- 



THE WATER SPIRIT. 39 

ively to the mysterious object, which he now saw plainly 
approaching him, and in which he recognised the exact 
figure of his deceased friend. At this moment he was 
seized with a horror which shook his inmost soul, and 
extorted involuntary tones of agony from his heaving 
bosom. 

The mate, who used to sleep behind the cabin near the 
steerage, was not yet in bed, and heard the Captain cry in a 
loud and evidently agitated voice, " Who are you ?" He 
instantly ran in with a light ; but, on perceiving Burnet's 
spirit wrapped in a morning gown, he feH senseless on 
the floor without uttering a single word. 

The nocturnal intruder now proved himself to be a 
humane and compassionate spirit, manifesting, from this 
moment, the utmost anxiety for the revival of the mate, 
who was half dead with fear. The spectre ran to a bottle 
of spirits which stood in the window, held it to the poor 
fellow's nose, and rubbed his temples with the liquor. 
The Captain, who still lay trembling in every joint, ob- 
serving the kind officiousness of the spirit, began to 
recover from his terror. 

This supposed spectre completely dispelled his aston- 
ishment and consternation, when, without relaxing for a 
moment his attentions to the apparently lifeless mate, he 
thus addressed the Captain : " My dear friend," — for it 
was no other than Burnet himself — " I beg your pardon : 
I am afraid I have carried the joke too far. I swam 
round the ship and got in again, unobserved, at the cabin 
window. This result I had not calculated on ; for my 
only object was to convince you of the natural terror 
which usually overpowers even the boldest, on occasion 
of such appearances. You are now, I dare say, thoroughly 
convinced of this oft-contested truth," 



40 GHOST STORIES. 

Walker was sincerely rejoiced to be thus awaked from 
his frightful dream, and to know that his friend, whom 
he had believed to be dead, was still living. But, while 
he cheerfully acknowledged that he was vanquished and 
perfectly convinced, he did not fail to recommend the 
mate to his friend's best efforts, lest his revival from a 
sham death should be marked by the real death of the 
poor fellow. 

Mr. Burnet's endeavours to recover him were not un- 
successful ; but no sooner did the mate come to himself, 
and set his eyes on the supposed ghost, who inadvertently 
stood just before him, than again, overcome with terror, 
he relapsed immediately into his former senseless state. 
Burnet then retired from the cabin, to call others to the 
assistance of the unfortunate man ; and much time was 
consequently lost ; for all to whom he applied were more 
or less frightened at the unexpected appearance of one 
whom they regarded as drowned, so that he had great 
difficulty, with all his arts of persuasion, to convince 
them that he was himself. 

The unfortunate mate never recovered the complete 
use of his senses. Nature had sustained too severe a 
shock, and reason was driven, as it were, from her seat 
for ever. From that unlucky hour his mental faculties 
seemed to be stupefied ; and he never afterwards could 
be brought to look Mr. Burnet in the face, though he 
had previously been one of the most courageous of men, 
and had undauntedly braved death in many a danger. 

Thus terminated Burnet's experiment to try how soon 
the imagination of an incredulous person may be over- 
come ; and how far the fear natural to every person may 
extend its influence over the so easily deluded senses. 
His adventure shows us, at the same time, that it may be 



THE WATER SPIRIT. 41 

dangerous to attempt to convince the reason by attacking 
the imagination ; that it betrays but little kindness or 
delicacy of feeling thus to dissect, in a manner, the sou] 
of a friend out of mere curiosity ; and that it is un pardon 
able temerity, even in one who is impressed with the 
fullest conviction of the nonentity of supernatural appear- 
ances, to expose himself to any trial by which human 
ingenuity may put him and his courage to too severe a 
test. 



4* 



42 



THE FRIAR'S GHOST IN THE IMPERIAL 
PALACE AT VIENNA. 



The beautiful Aurora Konigsmark had just given 
birth, in 1092, to the infant who became, in the sequel, 
the renowned Marshal Saxe, when Augustus II., Elector 
of Saxony, tore himself from her arms, and followed the 
call of honour to Hungary, where the Imperial army was 
opposing the Turks. 

The camp was not a harem. The dangers and the 
hardships of war formed so disagreeable a contrast to the 
magic festivities of Moritzburg, that Augustus soon grew 
weary of his new career; and at the end of the cam- 
paign he quitted the army, returning by way of Vienna 
for the purpose of paying his respects to the Emperor. 
Leopold received and treated the Elector with such dis- 
tinction and attention, as no Protestant prince had ever 
before experienced at the Austrian court. 

The easy and agreeable manner of Augustus para- 
lyzed, for a time, the Spanish etiquette of that court, and 
gave rise to a series of brilliant fetes in honour of the 
Elector. Equality of age, and similarity of disposition, 
soon produced a close friendship between him and Joseph, 
King of the Romans, which seemed to the courtiers to 
be of a political tendency, and therefore attracted univer- 
sal notice. In order to discover the secret, they endea- 
voured to involve the Elector in love-intrigues ; but this 
stratagem at first failed. At length the proud and volup- 



the friar's ghost. 43 

tuous Countess Esterle tried her powers of fascination, 
and the lovely Aurora was soon banished from his 
thoughts. 

Intoxicated with the rapture of the first enjoyment 
Augustus was yet revelling in delicious morning dreams, 
when he received a summons to attend the King. He 
repaired without delay to his apartment ; but what was 
his astonishment to find this prince, whom he had left 
perfectly well the preceding night, pale, perturbed, and 
indeed half delirious in bed. 

"Good God!" exclaimed the Elector, " w T hat is the 
matter ? What has happened to your Majesty ?" 

£ A most frightful adventure," replied Joseph, collect- 
ing himself; "you shall hear, and I am certain you will 
tremble along with me. Last night I was visited by the 
most horrid apparition that, perhaps, ever terrified mor- 
tal. I had been in bed about two hours, when the door 
of this chamber flew open with a great noise. Under 
the idea that it was my page, I did not undraw my cur- 
tain, but reprimanded him severely for disturbing me. 
Judge, however, what was my terror, when all at once I 
heard the rattling of chains, and near me stood a tall 
white figure, which, in a hollow, frightful tone, thus ad- 
dressed me : — 

" ' King Joseph ! behold in me a spirit which is endur- 
ing the pains of purgatory, and is commissioned by a 
higher power to announce to thee, that, by thy friendship 
for the Elector of Saxony, thou wilt infallibly plunge thy- 
self into the abyss of destruction. I come to warn, and 
to save thee. Renounce, then, this unhallowed connec- 
tion, or expect everlasting damnation !' 

"With this threat the clanking of chains was re- 
doubled, and, as fright fettered my tongue, the spectre 



44 GHOST STORIES. 

proceeded : ' What, Joseph ! dost thou not answer me ? 
Wilt thou have the audacity to defy the Almighty ? Is 
the kindness, is the favour of a mortal of more value to 
thee than the grace of God, to whom thou owest every 
thing ? In three days I will come for thy answer ; and 
if thou art then resolved to continue thy intercourse with 
the Elector, thy destruction and his are inevitable.' i 

" With these words the figure vanished, and left me in 
agony not to be described. I had not power to call my 
attendants. After some time I rang my bell with great 
difficulty, and my valet found me almost insensible. 

" I am now somewhat more tranquil ; for I am resolved 
to amend my life, and hope to obtain forgiveness of my 
sins. I am only apprehensive for you, and therefore con- 
jure you to embrace our holy religion: throw yourself 
into the bosom of that church through which alone there 
is salvation, and thus assure yourself of eternal life." 

Here the King finished his narrative, which cost him 
manifest effort, and sunk exhausted on his pillow. The 
Elector was too much confounded and affected to reply. 
He silently considered the possibilities and probabilities 
of this mysterious occurrence ; but his sober reason could 
not find any ground for attributing the extraordinary cir- 
cumstance to supernatural agency. 

He endeavoured at first to persuade his friend that the 
apparition was nothing but a lively dream, the phantom 
of a morbid imagination : but the King repeatedly assured 
him he knew, alas ! but too well, that it was a reality ; 
that he was awake, and that his statement was perfectly 
accurate. 

" But," said the Elector, " may it not have been a wil- 
ful deception ?" 

Joseph, with genuine grandezza, refused for a moment 



the friar's ghost. 45 

to entertain this idea, because he was sure that no one 
would have the audacity to palm so gross an imposition 
upon him. 

" Appearances, indeed," courteously rejoined Augus- 
tus, "are against this conjecture, but the host of intriguing 
priests, by which this court is encompassed, embraces 
many inventive geniuses. Might not some of these have 
formed a plan for ridding it of me, from a notion that our 
conversation may relate to religious topics, and that I may 
be revealing their rogueries to your Majesty ?" 

This idea had some weight with the King. 

The Elector asked whether his confessor had never 
raised objections against their friendship ; and Joseph 
frankly acknowledged, that he had not only frequently 
exhorted him to break it off, but even threatened to re- 
fuse him absolution, in case he should not discontinue his 
intercourse with the Elector. "Now we come to the 
point !" cried the Elector, recovering all at once his usual 
flow of spirits. He then explained to the King the pro- 
bable motives of the plan, and the means employed for its 
execution, and undertook to unmask the prophet of evil. 
Both promised to observe inviolable silence respecting the 
result of this conversation, and Augustus retired to his 
apartments, which he did not quit for three days, upon 
pretext of indisposition. The fair Esterle endeavoured, 
but in vain, to draw him from his seclusion, and he, 
meanwhile, matured his plan. 

On the third night he undressed and went to bed as 
usual ; but no sooner had he dismissed his attendants, 
than he rose and repaired by a private door to the King's 
chamber. Here he waited in concealment for the mid- 
night hour. The clock struck twelve, and the spectre ap- 
peared, with all the horrors that had attended its first visit. 



46 GHOST STORIES. 

" King Joseph !" began a sepulchral voice ; but it 
was prevented from proceeding by the Herculean arm of 
the Elector, who seized the apparition by the throat, and 
dashed it on the floor. " What impudent scoundrel art 
thou ?" thundered the Elector. The King trembled be- 
hind his curtain for the fate of Augustus. 

" Jesus ! — Maria !" shrieked the spectre — " Mercy ! — 
For God's sake ! — I am a Pater" 

" What !" cried the Elector — " thou art a spirit ! then 
hie thee back to purgatory, whence thou art come." 

He had, meanwhile, opened the window, and with a 
long, loud shriek, down rolled the pretended ghost over 
the roofs of the buildings of the Imperial palace. The 
chains clanked amid the stillness of night, and accelerated 
the fall. The noise brought a sentinel on duty at the 
palace to the spot, and in the unlucky spectre he recog- 
nised a dependent of the King's confessor. 

The miserable wretch certainly did not expect to be thus 
remunerated for so honourable a mission. He was dashed 
almost in pieces, and expired in a few hours, but his 
spirit has not been known to have ever returned from pur- 
gatory. 

Shame, horror, and indignation, were now expressed in 
the countenance of the King. He was incensed at the 
base intrigue, and vowed, on his accession to the throne, 
to expel all the Jesuits from the country. Time, how- 
ever, moderated the vehemence of this rash resolve ; he 
did not keep his word ; indeed, he was scarcely able to 
dismiss a confessor, by whom he had been so egregiously 
imposed upon. 

This adventure excited an extraordinary sensation at 
Vienna, and strong interest and admiration in behalf of 
the Elector. The Emperor Leopold alone expressed his 



the friar's ghost. 47 

displeasure at this precipitate conduct at a foreign court, 
and became evidently colder towards Augustus, who 
seemed not to observe the change, finished his intrigue 
with the ambitious Hungarian Countess, and then quitted 
Vienna in triumph. 

The cunning fathers of the Society of Jesus were 
obliged, for that time, to relinquish the plan they had ma- 
tured, for catching in their net one of the most powerful 
apostates of Germany, whose ancestors had so essentially 
promoted the Reformation. But it was only for a time. 
What priestcraft could not on this occasion accomplish, 
was effected soon afterwards by an unlucky longing after 
the Polish crown. The very same Augustus, who had 
so zealously defended the principles of Protestantism, 
voluntarily deposited his solemn recantation of the faith 
of his forefathers in the hands of the Cardinal-Archbishop 
of Raab. In possession of an imaginary dignity, he was, 
in the sequel, involved in a series of humiliations and 
difficulties, which obscured his glory, and cooled the at- 
tachment of his honest Saxons. 

He continued till his death in what is styled the only 
true faith. He now suffered spirits to walk at pleasure, 
and his annals even relate, that he treated all subsequent 
nocturnal apparitions with peculiar complaisance. 



48 



THE BEAR OF FRIEDRICHSHALL. 



Previous to the French Revolution, there was no class 
of people in continental Europe so thoroughly supersti- 
tious as the common soldiers. Men who would readily 
peril their lives in the " imminent deadly breach" would 
tremble and fly at the bare apprehension of seeing a ghost. 
Napoleon's atheistical myrmidons changed all this ; but 
the following story will illustrate the state of things at a 
period when soldiers had not become so brave as to fear 
neither God, man, nor the devil. 

When Charles XII. of Sweden was besieging the 
town of Friedrichshall, in Norway, in the winter of the 
year 1718, one night between twelve and one o'clock, 
something that had the appearance of a huge bear was 
perceived in the place, not far from the powder-magazine. 
His tremendous roar as he approached drove the sentries 
from their post, and terrified them to such a degree, that 
they ran breathless to the guard-house, declaring that the 
devil in the form of a bear haunted that part of the town. 

For this violation of their duty the men were instantly 
put in irons, and a subaltern was ordered to proceed im- 
mediately with a fresh party to occupy the post which 
they had deserted. These, however, together with the 
subaltern, presently betook themselves to flight. They 
protested that the monster had advanced straight to meet 
them, and that he had vomited flames of fire from his 
gasping jaws. 



THE BEAR OF FRIEDRICHSHALL. 49 

An officer now received directions to go with a suffi 
cient force and sift the story of this formidable apparition 
to the bottom : but after their arrival no traces of the 
shaggy quadruped were to be seen. It had vanished, 
probably because the clock had already struck one ; for 
it is well known that the devil and his imps are visible 
only in the same hour with spectres and apparitions. 

The very next morning the rigid commandant, adher- 
ing to the letter of the articles of war, caused the soldiers 
belonging to the two parties who had abandoned their 
post, the subaltern not excepted, to be hanged. They 
died in the firm conviction that it was the devil whom 
they had seen. 

When the troops for guard-duty were drawn up on 
the parade, and had their different posts, among which 
was that at the powder-magazine, allotted to them, those 
to whom the watch there between the hours of eleven 
and one was assigned could not by any means be pre- 
vailed on to do their duty. " Since we have the choice," 
said they, " of having our heads screwed off by the devil, 
or being tucked up by the hangman, we would rather 
die by the hand of the latter than fall into the tremen- 
dous claws of Beelzebub." 

The commandant, who knew all his men, selected 
from among them the most intrepid, and promised each 
of them, who would undertake the midnight duty at the 
powder-magazine, twelve ducats and promotion to a hal- 
bert. After a long pause, two sturdy Pomeranians offered 
to take the duty at the two posts in the front and rear of 
the building, but only on the condition, that each post 
should this time consist of two men, and that two others 
of their comrades should agree to accompany them. 
Two more were accordingly found, and the four resolute 
5 



50 GHOST STORIES. 

fellows, after loading their muskets with a brace of balls, 
ami providing them with fresh flints, repaired to their 
posts. 

The whole garrison was in fearful expectation, which 
became more and more intense the nearer the dreadful 
hour approached. Not a snore was heard on the benches 
of the guard-house ; not a subaltern narrated his achieve- 
ments ; not a drummer played merry-andrew tricks ; a 
dead silence everywhere prevailed. At the powder- 
magazine the four sentries, with quick strides, paced up 
and down their beat, at the same time repeating their 
prayers aloud. 

The dreaded hour arrived, and with the last stroke of 
the clock a low growl was heard at a distance. The faint 
glimmering of fire was soon afterwards discerned. The 
roaring became more frightful, and the infernal bear him- 
self appeared. Two of the sentries, without waiting the 
nearer approach of the monster, ran away ; a third, one 
of the Pomeranians, in the act of taking aim, fell to the 
ground and broke his arm ; and the fourth, his country- 
man, alone fired. But he had either missed his foe/or 
what seemed most likely to him at this critical moment, 
he was destined to learn from experience the truth of 
the ancient well-known adage, that " spirits cannot be 
wounded." The tremendous animal, with horrid roar, 
now made towards him, and he also took to his heels. 

The commandant had given strict orders, that if any 
thing occurred during the night, it should be instantly 
reported to him. A subaltern was accordingly de- 
spatched ; but before he returned, an old captain resolved 
to go and meet the goblin. He ordered a sergeant to 
follow him ; the latter refused, till the drawn sword of 
the captain forced him to obey. 



« mI 




u Without losing a moment, he gave the bear, which was groping at the 
door of the building, such a blow on the head with the hatchet, as laid the 
monster sprawling.'— Page 51. 



THE BEAR OF FRIEDRICHSHALL. 51 

Before he set out, he armed himself with a hatchet, 
stuck a loaded pistol in his sash, and made the sergeant 
take a carbine. He moreover posted men at small inter- 
vals all the way towards the powder-magazine, that in 
case of emergency they might hasten the more speedily 
to each other's assistance. The undaunted officer then 
went forward, followed by the sergeant. On approaching 
the dangerous spot, he saw a glimmering light at the 
door of the powder-magazine. He redoubled his pace. 
"Quick, comrade, but softly!" said he in a low voice; 
" this is a devil of a peculiar kind." 

He sucteeded in approaching the magazine unob- 
served. Without losing a moment, he gave the bear, 
which was groping at the door of the building, such a 
blow on the head with the hatchet, as laid the monster 
sprawling. 

" Clap the carbine to his throat !" cried the captain to 
his companion ; " but don't fire till he stirs !" He then 
discharged his pistol as a signal to his men, and several 
soldiers immediately hastened with torches and lanterns 
to the spot. 

The bear, which was still alive, being stripped of his 
hide, proved to be a resolute Swede, provided with pick- 
locks and crow-bars. He had contrived to produce the ap- 
pearance of vomiting fire by means of the lighted end of 
a match which he held between his teeth, and with which 
he designed to have blown up the magazine. 

The commandant caused him to be hanged the next 
day in his ursine accoutrements. The brave captain was 
immediately promoted to the rank of major, and the ser- 
geant to an ensigncy. 



52 



BARBITO ; OR, THE SPECTRE OF CUENZA. 

A SPANISH TALE. 



During the reign of Philip II. a rich hidalgo, named 
Don Lopez, resided on the bank of the Xucar, in the 
vicinity of Cuenza, at the farthest extremity of New 
Castile. He had a good heart, good health, a good table, 
and many friends. He was in all respects a happy man : 
he feared God, he loved the King, he respected the Holy 
Office ; in a word, he was all that in those days a good 
Spaniard ought to be, for his peace, his honour, and his 
eternal salvation. 

Don Lopez daily blessed his fate. " What have 1 
done," said he, " to merit the favours with which Heaven 
is pleased to load me ? I have the honour to belong to 
the greatest nation in the world ; I have had my share in 
its glory ; I have served under the great captain, and seen 
Francis I. taken prisoner at Pavia. At home I have 
nothing to wish for : my wife is a pattern of virtue, and 
her propensities are exactly the same as mine : whatever 
she says is just what I would have said, except, indeed, 
that I think it a great deal better said by her ; and she 
spares me even the trouble of scolding our domestics, 
who very often deserve it. We have but one cause of 
complaint — the want of children ; but in this life we 
must expect some disappointments. I have young dis- 
tant relations whom I tenderly love, and who return my 
affection ; and friends who never leave me : they form a 
voluntary family, who surround me for my happiness and 



THE SPECTRE OF CUENZA. 53 

for their own. My friends are attached to me ; they are 
people of excellent understandings. I know not how it 
happens that they are always in my way of thinking, for 
why should they stoop to flatter me ? I give them a 
dinner, to be sure, but a dinner is not worth purchasing 
at such a price. Is not Father Ignacio, one of my guests, 
accustomed to say, that man lives upon nothing?" — 
This good prior of a convent of Hieronimites actually had 
this adage in his mouth ; but he gave a decided prefer- 
ence to the pullets of Cuenza and the game of Badajoz, 
and never drank wine of Biscay when he could get that 
of La Mancha. 

One single wish disturbed the good Lopez in the midst 
of his happiness. He was desirous of affording those 
around him some new and extraordinary gratification, 
which should heighten the degree of felicity that he 
thought each of them shared with him. Long were his 
meditations directed to this subject, and at length he hit 
upon an expedient. He resolved to disappear, but in the 
most serious manner, as a person disappears when he dies 
and is buried. He smiled when he figured to himself 
the sudden change which he should perceive in the faces 
of his dear kinsmen and his worthy friends. What an 
exquisite, what an unexpected, what an overpowering 
transition from profound grief to extravagant joy, when 
he should drop in among them as from the clouds, and 
they should hear him say, " Weep no more, here I am !" 

I suspect how he came by this idea. It was not very 
long since Charles V. in his convent in Estremadura, had 
exhibited the ceremony of his own funeral, and Lopez 
determined to follow his example. No more than a week 
elapsed between the formation of this design and its exe- 
cution. 

5* 



54 GHOST STORIES. 

Don Lopez had an attendant who was the perfect 
counterpart of the servant of the Centurion. He said to 
him, Listen, and he listened; Be silent, and he was 
silent ; Follow, and he followed. Don Lopez first feigned 
illness; he grew worse and worse. There was not a 
physician but admitted this, since he refused, and for a 
good reason, to submit to be bled ; and according to the 
practice of the faculty of Madrid, they had, as a prelimina- 
ry step, proposed four operations of that kind. 

At length he was given over and his case declared hope- 
less. His servant, the only person whom he suffered to 
attend him in this critical moment^ collected the scattered 
members of a figure provided for the purpose ; he hastily 
put together something which bore no bad resemblance to 
Don Lopez: the real one slunk away by a private stair- 
case, and had been galloping for several hours on the 
high road to Cadiz, with the intention of embarking for 
the Low Countries, when his image was removed to be 
conveyed in procession to the great church of Cuenza. 

Meanwhile all the bells of Cuenza were in motion, and 
the dressed-up figure was escorted by the clergy and the 
family in deep mourning. The whole cathedral was 
hung with black ; its five naves and all the chapels were 
illuminated ; Father Ignacio delivered the funeral ser- 
mon, and the singers performed a De profundi s in such a 
style, that the impression made by it is not yet forgotten. 

Don Lopez had meanwhile reached the Low Coun- 
tries : to while away the six months of his intended 
absence, he determined to go to the wars. He joined 
the army just in time to share in the victory of Saint 
Quentin, and to lose the little finger of his left hand in 
that engagement. This accident was even inserted in 
the Mercury of the time, but under the designation of 



THE SPECTRE OF CUENZA. 55 

Don***; for, as may easily be imagined, Don Lopez 
preserved the strictest incognito. His faithful servant 
Pedrillo rejoined him, and informed him of all the particu- 
lars related above ; only, that he might not divert his 
master from his plan, to which he was exceedingly at- 
tached, he acquainted him with but a small part of the 
grief which his supposed death had occasioned, and thus 
left him in the full enjoyment of the pleasure of being 
deeply regretted. At the same time Pedrillo did not 
conceal the circumstance, that, on quitting the house on 
some plausible pretext or other, which is never wanting 
on such occasions, of all the friends to whom he had 
bidden adieu, Barbito was the one whom it had cost him 
the most trouble to prevail upon to remain at Cuenza. 
Barbito was a Pyrennean dog reared by Don Lopez. 
This animal was equally distinguished for his beauty, 
courage, strength, and fidelity. Don Lopez was tho- 
roughly sensible of the attachment of his dear Barbito, 
which, since the disappearance of his master, was trans- 
ferred to things that had belonged to him. He vowed 
that on his return his dog should have whole rabbits and 
partridges to feast upon, and an oil a podrida to his own 
cheek on the 25th of August, the day on which he had 
given this grateful proof of remembrance. 

Those who enlist under the banners of Mars run more 
than one risk. Don Lopez was taken prisoner by a 
knight of Lower Bretagne, who conducted him to his 
castle, and there kept him confined till the peace, that is 
to say, for the space of two tedious years. During all 
this time Don Lopez heard not a single word of Castile, 
and saw nothing from the windows of his dungeon but 
the chimneys of Q,uimpercorentin. 

Meanwhile several incidents had occurred at Cuenza, 



56 GHOST STORIES. 

The grief excited by the death of Don Lopez was too 
acute to be lasting : such is the case with all violent 
emotions ; were it not so, we should be unable to endure 
them, and this it is that excuses the human heart. 

The good Castilian was prudence itself, and, that he 
might make sure finding his house as he left it, he had 
taken care to bequeath to his wife the full and free posses- 
sion of all his property. Donna Beatrix, for that was her 
name, was, as we have observed, a discreet woman, and 
such a lover of order that she had not moved a chair from 
the place in which it had stood for upwards of fifteen years. 

The will was found in the writing-desk of the supposed 
defunct ; but the dear nephews, who had looked forward 
to the succession of their beloved uncle, attacked this sole 
support of the widow. A lawyer discovered that there 
was a comma in a place where there ought to have been 
a full point, and a particle where there should have been 
a conjunction. The matter was referred to the corregidor, 
by the corregidor to the oydors of the royal tribunal of 
Valencia, and by these oydors to the oydors of the chan- 
cery of Grenada, who, on account of the fatal comma, 
unanimously decided against the widow. The nephews 
were accordingly put into possession of the estates of Don 
Lopez. Donna Beatrix was allowed to retain the house 
alone : as her habits were frugal and her wishes moderate, 
as her wardrobe remained in the same place, her stock of 
chocolate in the same cupboard, and the cage of her 
parrot in the same corner, she was dejected only because 
the loss of the suit reminded her of the loss of her 
husband. 

The affair, however, became the talk of the whole 
country and the neighbouring provinces. Don Lopez 
having regained his liberty, and being put quite out of 



4fc 



THE SPECTRE OF CUENZA. 5? 

conceit with the idea of exciting surprise, returned as 
speedily, at least, as he departed. At an inn at Saragossa, 
he was informed of what had passed : he was somewhat 
astonished, but had no doubt that his presence would 
much more astonish his nephews, and restore things to 
their proper order. Instead, however, of the magnificent 
entertainment which he had designed to give, and in the 
midst of which he was to drop from the sky, to his own 
great joy and that of the whole company ; the first thing 
he did was to run home, and tell his wife that it was all 
a joke, and that for the rest he had intended to return 
sooner. 

He went in, and found Donna Beatrix sitting in the 
same chair, on the same spot, and engaged in the same 
occupation as formerly, that is, in making a dress for Our 
Lady of Cuenza. He ran towards her with all the 
eagerness of an affectionate husband. Donna Beatrix 
might, perhaps, have been thinking of him, but most cer- 
tainly she never expected to see Don Lopez. No sooner 
did she perceive him than she crossed herself, and falling 
upon her knees before an image of Saint Jago de Com- 
postella, "Ah, my dear husband!" cried she, "pray 
don't hurt me ; you know I never did any thing to dis- 
please you." Don Lopez kept advancing. "Ah ! dear, 
Holy Virgin !" exclaimed she, covering her face with her 
hands, " do not touch me, my dear husband ; go back 
again, go back ! If your soul wants any thing for its 
repose, I promise that plenty of masses shall be said for 
it ; but, for Heaven's sake, go back, or you will frighten 
me to death !" 

The good hidalgo, finding that his wife mistook him 
for a spectre, and that she was too much agitated to listen 
to his explanation, knew not whether to laugh or to weep ; 



58 GHOST STORIES. 

but, with a view the more effectually to revive her spirits, 
he hurried to the convent of Hieronimites, and ran up 
stairs to the apartment of the Reverend Father Ignacio. 

The father had just done copying the sermon of a 
missionary of Gallicia, for the purpose of appropriating 
it to his own use. This sermon treated of all the appear- 
ances which the evil spirit is capable of assuming in 
order to tempt the handmaids of the Lord, and was to be 
delivered successively in each of the six nunneries of Cu- 
enza. Scarcely had Don Lopez entered, and opened his 
mouth to make himself known to his old friend, when the 
monk, who was full of his subject, and very far from a free- 
thinker, stared at him all aghast. Poor Don Lopez, 
grieved at the fright in which he had left his wife, and 
not less astonished at the fixed attitude of Ignacio, pulled 
him forcibly by the sleeve. The jolly prior, roused from 
his siesta after a good dinner, and divided between the 
fear of the devil whom he attacked in his sermon, and 
the figure of Don Lopez, which, as he thought, the devil 
alone could have assumed, scampered out at the door 
which was left open ; and, without once looking behind 
him, left the field of battle to Don Lopez, or rather to the 
evil spirit. 

Lopez quitted the convent, and went straightway to 
his nephews. He first met with the younger, and asked 
if he did not know him. The young man, who disbelieved 
the existence of ghosts, burst into a laugh. " God be 
praised," cried Lopez, " here, at least, I have found one ra- 
tional person !" Upon this he began to relate to his nephew 
how his wife and the prior had taken him for what he 
was not : he assured him, that, so far from being a spirit, 
he was still flesh and bone — his dear uncle, the good 
hidalgo Lopez, who had always cherished a particular 



THE SPECTRE OF CUENZA. 59 

affection for him ; and concluded with trusting that his 
nephews would now, as a matter of course, restore his 
estate, of which they had taken possession rather too 
early. The young man was an Andalusian, gay and 
jocose ; he laughed more heartily than before, and said, 
" Go about your business, good man ; the mourning for 
you is over/' 

At these words Don Lopez flew into a violent passion, 
which is natural enough for a man who is denied to be 
what he is. This warm altercation attracted the notice 
of the elder brother, who went down stairs to see what 
was the matter. Don Lopez was not received more 
favourably by him ; in vain he had recourse to persuasion 
and to threats. All the servants and the neighbours 
thronged round ; one said that it could not possibly be 
the hidalgo Don Lopez, because he was at his interment ; 
another, that Father Ignacio delivered the funeral dis- 
course ; a third, that he had carried a taper on the occa- 
sion to the convent of the Black Penitents ; and all 
agreed, that the stranger had something of the look of 
Don Lopez, but for this reason he was the more danger- 
ous an impostor. A little man in black judiciously 
observed, that it would be well to secure him, and carry 
him before the corregidor. This proposal was seconded 
by all the bystanders, and especially the two nephews ; 
and they were just proceeding to put it into execution, in 
spite of the very natural rage of our hidalgo, when an 
alguasiJ major and four familiars, or officers of the Inqui- 
sition, alighting from a carriage, seized and hurried him 
before that highly respectable tribunal. 

I shall not give the particulars of the examination 
which poor Don Lopez here underwent, or of the torture 
by water, to which recourse was had to force him to con- 



60 GHOST STORIES. 

fess what demon had taken possession of him, and to 
what order and class he belonged. The good hidalgo 
held out stoutly against the first six glasses which he was 
forced to swallow ; but when he was extended upon a 
table, and a prodigious funnel thrust into his mouth, to 
double or triple the dose of the fatal liquid, his courage 
forsook him, and he would have confessed himself to be 
a devil of any class they pleased, but for a tremendous 
noise which suddenly resounded through the dreary vaults, 
and diverted the attention of his tormentors. 

The blast that burst from the horn of Astolpho, or from 
the trumpets of Israel when they overthrew the walls of 
Jericho, could alone be compared to the sound which 
wakened all the echoes of this abode of silence and of terror. 
The familiars fell upon their knees, thinking that the last 
day had arrived ; poor Don Lopez raised himself on his 
seat ; the pen dropped from the hands of the secretary ; 
the inquisitor turned pale ; — it was Barbito, the faithful; 
the affectionate, the terrible Barbito. He had accidentally 
got scent of his master near the convent of the Hieroni- 
mites ; he had followed him from street to street, to the 
Inquisition ; where the jailers from fear, and the dogs 
of the prison out of friendship, had permitted him to enter. 
Barbito, restless, impatient, furious, continued to seek his 
master ; he perceived him, and overturning every thing 
in his way, leaped* upon the table ; and having for a con- 
siderable time licked his hands, at length lay down at 
his feet. Wo be now to any one who durst approach 
him ! 

Barbito changed the fate of Don Lopez. But for him 
his master could have expected nothing milder than to 
be imprisoned for life, after figuring in an auto defe: but 
the testimony of his dog was a ray of light that com- 




"Barbito, restless, impatient, furious, continued to seek his master; he 
perceived him, and overturning every thing in his way, leaped upon the 
table."— Pa fire 60. 



THE SPECTRE OF CUENZA. 61 

pletely convinced the secretary. This little man, who 
was a great scholar, was just then printing a most inge- 
nious dissertation on the souls of brutes. Barbito afforded 
an additional argument in favour of his system, and Don 
Lopez reaped the benefit of this. The secretary demon- 
strated to the Inquisitor, that a dog is a witness who 
cannot be objected to in any country. What proved, 
besides, that Don Lopez was not a devil in disguise, was, 
that he had not perceived the least smell of brimstone, 
which was generally the case with those who passed 
through his hands. 

The secretary accompanied Don Lopez and Barbito to 
Donna Beatrix ; at the sight of this witness, conjugal 
affection overcame her fears. But the good hidalgo might 
have perceived, if he would, that his return put her very 
much out of her way.' She was, as we have observed, 
extremely methodical : for two years she had lived in the 
style of a widow, and now found herself obliged to resume 
that of a wife ; but such was the goodness of her disposi- 
tion, and her fondness for Don Lopez, that the shadow of 
dissatisfaction had soon passed, and an hour afterwards she 
thought of nothing but the happiness of seeing him again. 

The wife of Don Lopez was the only person that fol- 
lowed the example of Barbito. The nephews, who had 
inherited his property, would never acknowledge him, 
and merely admitted that he bore some resemblance to 
the deceased. Father Ignacio entrenched himself behind 
his funeral discourse. The question concerning the resti- 
tution of the property was not discussed ; Don Lopez 
recovered nothing, because, exclusively of the confusion 
which a retrograde movement creates in families, the cor- 
regidor of Cuenza, the royal audienza of Valencia, and 
the chancery of Grenada, could not be wrong. 
6 



62 GHOST STORIES. 

The little secretary, who supported his book in patron- 
izing Don Lopez, had a sister who was first waiting- 
woman to the king's mistress, Donna Clara de Mendoza, 
whom Titian was then painting as Venus Anadyomene, 
without other habiliment than a necklace and bracelets 
of oriental pearls as large as pigeon's eggs. The waiting- 
woman introduced Don Lopez and his dog to Donna 
Clara. 

The first act of kindness certainly proceeded from a 
woman ; in that sex, the heart never fails to guide the 
head. Donna Clara represented every thing to the 
monarch, from Barbito to the little ringer of Don Lopez. 
She considered only his misfortunes and his goodness of 
heart ; the king, on the other hand, beheld the services of 
a brave Spaniard, who had never asked a favour, and set- 
tled a pension upon him. 

Don Lopez purchased the work of the little secretary, 
and wrote the history which the reader has here perused, 
to warn any one who should have a fancy to return like 
him, to take the prudent precaution to cause himself to 
be first recognised by his Barbito. 



63 



THE DANGER OF TAMPERING WITH 
THE FEAR OF GHOSTS. 



Towards the end of the first quarter of the last cen- 
tury, the belief in ghosts and the fear of supernatural 
appearances began here and there to be considered as 
silly and dangerous. About this period some young 
men who were pursuing their studies at Vienna, and 
lived on friendly terms together, manifested a strong de- 
sire to shake off all the prejudices and superstitious notions 
in which they had been brought up. They soon per- 
ceived, however, that it was only by slow degrees that 
this object could be accomplished ; nevertheless, one of 
them, named Joseph Bernhardi, who was apt to talk rather 
big, insisted that, at the age of twenty-two, he had long 
since completely conquered the grossest of his former 
prejudices, for instance, the dread of apparitions. 

"Yes," said one of his companions, "I know as well 
as you that devils and spectres have not the power to 
hurt us ; I am as firmly convinced as you can be that 
God is much too gracious and tender a Father to abandon 
us to the power of evil spirits ; but still I cannot wholly 
free myself from the influence of the silly gossip of my 
nurse relative to this subject. And though I know there 
is no such thing as the hobgoblin and the black man to 
whom she threatened to give me in order to keep me 
quiet, and laugh at all such nonsense ; still an obscure 
feeling of some inexplicable connection of night and dark- 



64 GHOST STORIES. 

ness with the occupations of invisible spirits pervades 
my mind, and, in spite of my better convictions and the 
arguments of reason, I cannot entirely suppress it. In 
particular, I cannot pass late at night by the charnel- 
house of. our church-yard with coolness and composure ; 
an involuntary horror comes over me, and I aRrays quick- 
en my pace, though I am thoroughly satisfied that the 
dead will lie quietly enough in their graves, and that 
those to whom the bones in the charnel-house once be- 
longed have not the power to do us the least injury." 

Bernhardi laughed heartily at this frank confession, 
and w T as not sparing of sarcastic remarks on his friend. 
" For my part," added he, boastfully, " I would engage 
to go to-night into the vault close to the charnel-house, 
and give the corpse deposited there a few days since a 
slap in the face, without feeling the slightest alarm." 

His friends, on account of his swaggering, took him at 
his word. "As to the slap in the face," said they, "we 
will cheerfully excuse you and the poor corpse from that ; 
but we shall expect you to prove to-night, between twelve 
and one, that you are capable of doing what you assert, 
or we shall all consider you as an arrant braggart, who has 
a heart in his mouth, but none where it ought to be." 

Bernhardi was almost offended because his companions 
seemed to doubt his assurance, and declared that he was 
quite ready to submit to the required test. One of the 
students was acquainted with the family to whom the 
vault in question belonged, and found means to procure 
the key. In the evening, the party assembled at Bern- 
hardi 's apartments, and awaited with impatience the ar- 
rival of midnight. Twelve o'clock at length struck. 
They gave the resolute Bernhardi the key to the vault 
and a fork, which, to prove that he had really been there, 



THE FEAR OF GHOSTS. 65 

he was to stick into the coffin containing the corpse, to 
which he had proposed to give a slap in the face. 

The students, for the sake of ease, were in their morn- 
ing-gowns. Bernhardi, without quitting his, set out on 
his sepulchral expedition. His friends thought they 
could perceive him change colour, when they put the key 
and the fork into his hands ; but yet he left them in ap- 
parently the highest spirits. They concluded that he 
was still in the same predicament with themselves. 
They were all firmly convinced that no harm was to be 
apprehended in the vault from a real ghost ; but yet they 
could not help shuddering when they fancied themselves 
in his place, fork in hand, beside the coffin. 

Bernhardi stayed much longer than they expected. 
According to their calculation, the whole business might 
have been performed in less than a quarter of an hour ; 
and yet the clock struck one, and he had not returned. 
They began to be uneasy at his long absence, and to ap- 
prehend that some accident had befallen him. They ac- 
cordingly agreed to go in a body, with a lantern, to the 
vault in quest of their friend. By the way they still en- 
tertained hopes of meeting him, but were disappointed. 
The reader may conceive their alarm, when they at 
length found him extended upon the ground before the 
open door of the vault, and to all appearance lifeless. 
They instantly lifted him up, and spoke to him, but re- 
ceived no answer. They held the lantern to his face; 
it was pale as death ; his mouth was wide open, as 
though in the act of screaming, and his eyes seemed 
starting from their sockets. As soon as his young com- 
panions had recovered from their first fright, they lost no 
time in taking the necessary measures for his revival. 

In the first place they loosed all those parts of his dress, 
6* 



66 GHOST STORIES. 

which, by their pressure, tended still more to impede the 
already obstructed circulation of the blood. The strong- 
est of them then took him on his back and carried him 
home, while some ran for a doctor, or were otherwise oc- 
cupied in arrangements for the recovery of their unfor- 
tunate friend. Not a moment was lost in useless lamen- 
tation, or frivolous conjectures, for they well knew that 
the delay of a quarter of an hour might, in such a case, 
prove fatal. 

The moment they had reached his chamber they un- 
dressed him and put him to bed, laying him on his right 
side, that the determination of the blood to the region of 
the heart might not be increased ; frequently sprinkled 
his face with cold water, and held to his nose a smelling- 
bottle containing volatile salt ; — for want of which the best 
vinegar may be employed. After they had persevered 
some time in these attentions, some faint signs of return- 
ing animation were perceived. The doctor and his assist- 
ants redoubled their exertions, and at length had the in- 
expressible satisfaction to recall to life by their efforts the 
apparently inanimate Bernhardi. 

The happiness which they felt at his revival was des- 
tined, however, to experience a severe drawback. They 
at first supposed that he was unable to speak from weak- 
ness : but, unfortunately, he never afterwards recovered 
entirely the power of speech. The violence of the fright 
had paralyzed his tongue, and for a long time he could 
not articulate a word so as to be understood. When 
asked what had happened to him on that unfortunate 
night in the vault, he shuddered, and by signs desired 
pen, ink, and paper to be brought to him in bed, on 
which he answered the inquiry of his friends in the fol- 
lowing words : — 



THE FEAR OF GHOSTS. 67 

"I have been severely punished for my boasting and 
presumption. I reached the coffin without perceiving any 
thing that at all resembled a ghost ; but when I had with 
trembling hand stuck the fork into the coffin, and was re- 
tiring with the utmost precipitation, something detained 
me by seizing my morning-gown. I struggled to extri- 
cate myself, but fell senseless with fright to the ground, 
and know not what happened afterwards." 

On reading these lines, Bernhardt friends were not a 
little astonished. They were not disposed to question the 
truth of this statement, but their reason had many objec- 
tions to urge against it. How could a ghost hold a per- 
son fast by the morning-gown ? — How could an immate- 
rial being have hands to grasp any material object ? They 
puzzled their brains for a considerable time, in vain, to 
reconcile their friend's account of his adventure with 
the voice of sound reason. At length they resolved to 
examine the vault itself, in hopes of discovering some 
traces of the supposed spirit. 

Without communicating their intention to Bernhardt 
his inquisitive comrades repaired the following night, at 
the hour of twelve, to the vault. They had the good 
sense to equip themselves against any emergency, be- 
cause experience had taught them that such precautions 
impart courage for the pursuit of an inquiry of this na- 
ture. They took care to be provided, among other things, 
with several lanterns : for the same spectre which had 
terrified Bernhardi out of his wits in the dark, might per- 
haps prove, in a good light, to be a mere trifle. 

They thus proceeded with all due precaution to the 
vault, searched every corner of it, looked among all the 
coffins, but found nothing. At length, one of them per- 
ceived the fork which their unfortunate friend had brought 



68 GHOST STORIES. 

with him the preceding night. It was thrust deep into 
one of the coffins, and from it hung a small piece of cot- 
ton. " Thank God !" cried he, " the ghost is discovered ! 
See, here is the fork, and a bit of cotton out of Bernhar- 
di's morning-gown ! The poor fellow, in his hurry, 
pinned his gown with the fork to the coffin, and then 
imagined that it was a spirit which held him fast." 

Perfectly satisfied with this discovery, they quitted the 
dreary abode of death, and hastened next morning to 
their unfortunate friend, to communicate to him the solu- 
tion of the mystery. He immediately took up his morn- 
ing-gown, and sure enough not only was there the ex- 
pected hole, but the bit of cotton was found to fit it ex- 
actly. Bernhardi was greatly rejoiced at the discovery 
of the delusion ; but never perfectly recovered the use of 
the organs of speech. 

Supposing Bernhardi's friends had possessed less en- 
terprise and resolution than were required for the cool 
investigation of the nature of the imaginary ghost, that is 
to say, of the natural cause of the fright that overpowered 
him ; what would then have been thought of this story ? 
The circumstance would certainly have been deemed in- 
explicable, and attributed to the operation of some evil 
spirit ; and one generation would have repeated the tale 
to another with dismay and horror. Or, supposing Bern- 
hardi had not stuck the fork deep enough into the coffin, 
so that, on retiring, he had pulled it out again with his 
morning-gown, without tearing the latter, what clue 
would there have been to the discovery of the real fact ? 

In this case his associates would probably have found 
the fork lying on the pavement of the vault, but would 
have been unable to conceive how it came there, as their 
comrade declared that he had stuck it in the coffin ; for there 




"The poor fellow, in his hurry, pinned his srovrn with the fork to the 
coffin." — Page 68. 



THE FEAR OF GHOSTS. 69 

would have been no bit of cotton to explain the mystery. 
Had they even possessed sufficient good sense to con- 
sider, that it is not always possible to detect the natural 
causes of effects vulgarly attributed to supernatural agen- 
cy, still this would not have been sufficient to satisfy 
Bernhardi, who, as long as he lived, would have firmly 
believed that an evil spirit had really held him fast by 
the coffin, and deprived him of speech as a punishment 
for his presumption. 

And, in truth, it was an evil spirit that occasioned 
his misfortune, namely the spirit of superstition and pre- 
judice, which had been instilled into him in his infancy 
by the pernicious gossip of silly people. He afterwards 
acknowledged to his friends in writing, that he really 
imagined he could have gone without any emotion of fear 
into the vault, but, as he entered it, he w r as seized with a 
horror which convinced him too late that he had not yet 
wholly freed himself from the childish terrors of his early 
years. 

"Happy," added he, dropping a tear on the paper, 
u happy are they whose mothers and nurses have the 
good sense to avoid every thing that can sow in the ten- 
der infant mind the seeds of this superstitious fear, which 
all the arguments of reason cannot afterwards wholly 
eradicate !" 



70 



THE DEVIL AND THE PRUSSIAN 
GRENADIER. 



It is an old saying, that " the devil is not so black as he 
is painted." This proverb receives confirmation from 
the following story, which shows that the appearance of 
his Satanic majesty on earth may occasionally be attend- 
ed with very agreeable consequences. 

In the year 1742, during the first Silesian war, Colonel 
de la Motte Fouque, afterwards a Prussian general, re- 
ceived orders from Field- marshal Schwerin to occupy the 
town of Kremsir, in Moravia, with his battalion of grena- 
diers. Among other precautions which he adopted on 
taking possession of the place, he stationed a sentry upon 
the ramparts, not far from the house of a catholic priest. 
Rumour had given a bad character to this quarter of the 
town ; and it was universally believed that the devil him- 
self was frequently to be seen prowling about there. 
The Prussian sentinel had ocular demonstration of the 
accuracy of this report on the very first night ; for no 
sooner had the hour of spirits arrived, than the Prince of 
Darkness appeared, all in black, with horns, claws, and 
a long tail, and armed with a dung-fork. 

The grenadier posted at this place was a fearless vete- 
ran, who had long wished to fall in with his Infernal 
Majesty. Instead of being dismayed and deserting his . 
post, he calmly awaited the gradual approach of the sa- 
ble figure, which seemed to take no notice of his chat 




4A.RLEY DEL. 



•He held h.m tightly grasped, regardless of the screams of agony which his 
nervous grnsp extorted from the writhing demon;"- Page 71. 



THE DEVIL AND THE GRENADIER. 71 

lenge of "Who's there?" Advancing close to him, it 
held forth the three-pronged weapon, and in a fearful 
voice threatened him with instant death. 

Conscious that he was engaged in the performance of 
his duty, the soldier was very little, if at all, alarmed. 
He coolly awaited the assault, parried the thrust of the 
dung-fork with his bayonet, and courageously seized his 
Satanic opponent. He held him tightly grasped, regard- 
less of the screams of agony which his nervous gripe ex- 
torted from the writhing daemon. Some of his comrades, 
who were at hand, soon hastened to the assistance of tne 
brave grenadier, and having secured Old Hornie, dragged 
him away to the nearest guard-house. 

Next morning he was conducted in his infernal accou- 
trements, escorted by an immense crowd, through the town 
to the main-guard. 

Finding himself subjected to a rigorous military exami- 
nation, the devil had the condescension to answer in the 
humblest tone every question that was proposed. It 
came out that he was no other man than the Catholic 
priest himself, before whose house the sentinel was posted. 
Annoyed by the incessant challenges of the latter, he 
imagined that a Protestant grenadier might be terrified as 
easily as the most superstitious of his own communion ; 
but he was not so fortunate as to drive him from the 
vicinity of his habitation by the mask which he assumed. 

The other ecclesiastics of the town were aware that 
their indiscreet colleague had, by his masquerade, not only 
cast a stigma on his profession, but grossly offended against 
the laws of war ; they, therefore, with all humility soli- 
cited his release, and voluntarily offered to pay any fine 
that might be imposed. 

Colonel Fouque seized this opportunity of contributing 



72 GHOST STORIES. 

to the comfort of his grenadiers, who, like all the Prus- 
sian soldiers in those days, wore white gaiters, and after 
the arduous campaign which was just over had great need 
of new ones. He ordered a calculation to be made of 
the cost of new black gaiters for his whole battalion. It 
amounted to about one hundred ducats, which sum the 
Catholic clergy of the town cheerfully paid to atone for 
the misconduct of their colleague. 

The unlucky representative of Old Nick was sent to a 
convent to expiate his indiscretion ; and the grenadiers 
were supplied with black gaiters, which rendered them 
good service in their subsequent marches. They jocu- 
larly observed that they had to thank the devil of Krem- 
sir for their new leggings ; and the king himself was so 
well pleased with the innovation of Colonel Fouque, that 
he determined to furnish his whole army with black gait- 
ers, instead of the white ones which had hitherto been 
universally worn. 



73 



THE GHOST OF COUNT WALKENRIED. 



The young Count von Walkenned had, to the great 
satisfaction of his father, pursued his studies for some 
time with advantage at Gottingen, under the tuition of 
Mr. Winkelmann. He then set out on his travels for the 
farther improvement of his taste. Winkelmann, who ac- 
companied him as his friend and adviser, was unfortunately- 
taken ill at Strasburg, and there died, before they had 
been gone a month. For want of one to supply the place 
of him who had been, in the strictest sense of the word, 
his friend, the young Count resolved to pursue his travels 
alone. His father was equally shocked and surprised by 
the news of Winkelmann's sudden death. As, however, 
he knew his son to be very steady for years, he made no 
objection to his intention of travelling by himself. He 
wrote to him accordingly, repeating the paternal admoni- 
tions which he had given him at parting, and enclosing a 
letter to an eminent banker of Paris, with whom he had 
formerly been acquainted when he was ambassador to the 
court of France, and whom he regarded as his friend. In 
this epistle he- requested the banker to advance his son as 
much money as he might require, and to furnish him 
with letters of recommendation when he should quit the 
French capital. 

In order to remind the banker the more strongly of their 
former acquaintance, he transmitted in his packet a hand- 
some gold snuff-box, with his portrait, which was a very 
7 



74 GHOST STORIES. 

striking likeness. It had been painted many years be- 
fore at Paris, in his younger days, and bore an extraordi- 
nary resemblance to his son. This box had been pre- 
sented to him as a keepsake by the banker. He there- 
fore imagined that he should gratify his old friend, by 
affording him a sight of this memento through the me- 
dium of his son, whose identity it would moreover serve 
to demonstrate. 

The young Count, on his arrival at Paris, repaired to 
what is called an hotel garni, till he should meet with 
more commodious lodgings. Besides several other fo- 
reigners, he there found two Englishmen, brothers, who 
had been his fellow-students at Gottin^en. This acci- 
dental circumstance, as well as the extremely elegant 
dinners and suppers furnished at this house, and the 
society of many highly polished and intelligent French- 
men who daily resorted thither, caused the Count to defer 
from time to time the execution of his intention of seek- 
ing another lodging. 

One of the gentlemen whom the Count here met at 
dinner, and for whom his susceptible heart soon conceived 
a particular friendship, was the Baron de Vigny. Extra- 
ordinary talents and attainments, and the most amiable 
qualities, rendered this young man a delightful companion. 

It was not long before the Count could not be happy 
without him, or he without the Count: hence they were 
called, by their other acquaintance and friends, the Inse- 
parable ; and this epithet would have been perfectly ap- 
plicable in every respect, had not death, which heeds no 
attachment, but too soon parted them from one another. 

In their daily convivial parties they were accustomed 
to push about the bottle very briskly ; but at night, in 
particular, they exceeded all bounds. On these occasions 



THE GHOST OF COUNT WALKENRIED. 75 

there was no want of the finest and strongest wines. 
The acquaintance of the French with the quality of their 
native productions enabled them to avoid the ill effects 
of this course of life, to which the German Count fell a 
victim. He had never been what is termed a boon com- 
panion, and nothing but the persuasions of the others, and 
a wish to make himself agreeable to the rest of the party, 
caused him so far to exceed his ordinary limits, as to in- 
duce an inflammatory fever which terminated in his death. 

The Count, who had been in no want of money, and 
whose whole time at Paris had been occupied in plea- 
sure and dissipation, had not even called on his father's 
old friend, the banker, to deliver the letter and to show 
him the snuff-box. His incoherent expressions during 
his delirium proved that this neglect lay heavy upon his 
mind in the last moments of his life. 

The Baron de Vigny was too sincere a friend to avoid 
the sick-bed of the suffering Count, with whom, when in 
health, he had passed such happy days : during his ill- 
ness, therefore, he visited him very often, and paid him 
the utmost attention. He laid, in particular, the strong- 
est injunctions on the physicians who were called in, to 
neglect nothing that could tend to avert the danger of the 
disorder. He justly considered this attention as the most 
efficient, if not the only proof he could give of his at- 
tachment to the Count ; but unfortunately these demon- 
strations of friendship, and all the skill of the physicians, 
could not save the patient, and he fell into that sleep from 
which none wakes. 

The master of the hotel sent for the physicien de guar- 
tier to inspect the deceased, and ascertain whether he 
was really dead. After the most careful examination, 
he assured him of the death of the Count, and gave 



76 GHOST STORIES. 

him the certificate which is required at Paris before a 
person can be interred. It is well known with what 
haste the remains of the deceased are usually com- 
mitted to the earth in that city ; and, agreeably to this 
practice, scarcely twenty-four hours after the Count had 
breathed his last, his body was borne away early in the 
morning and consigned to the grave. 

The very next morning on which he was interred, the 
deceased Count called personally on the banker to exe- 
cute his father's commission, which he had neglected to 
fulfil in his lifetime. In the same clothes which he had 
worn during the last days of his health at Paris, and 
attended by his trusty and disconsolate valet, the disem- 
bodied spirit of the deceased repaired, as Count von Wal- 
kenried, to the banker, to pay him his long-deferred 
introductory visit. 

The banker had never seen the Count ; but even if the 
latter had not mentioned his name, he would probably 
have recognised, in the spirit, at the first glance, the son 
of his old friend, so striking was his resemblance to his 
father. He received the ghost with all the politeness of 
a Parisian, and begged him to walk into the parlour. 
Here the spirit delivered to him his credentials, and his 
father's snuff-box, with the greatest solemnity, adding cer- 
tain verbal communications which he had been instructed 
to make. The following dialogue ensued : — 

Banker. There w r as no occasion, my dear M. le 
Comte, for so many certificates to convince me that you 
are the son of my old friend. Welcome, a thousand wel- 
comes to you ! Command every thing that is in my pow- 
er : in particular any money you want shall be at your 
disposal. 

Ghost (with a grave and dignified obeisance). I 



THE GHOST OF COUNT WALKENRIED. 77 

thank you, sir, for your kind offers, and lament nothing 
more for my own sake, than that I cannot avail myself of 
them. 

Banker. All the better, if your purse needs no assist- 
ance from me. You thus afford an excellent example, 
that a man may live up to his rank and yet be a good 
economist. I hope, however, to have the pleasure of 
serving you when you think of continuing your tour ; but 
will you not do me the favour to take breakfast with me ? 

Ghost. I am exceedingly obliged to you, but I shall 
need nothing more in this world ; for I died yesterday 
morning at Michel's hotel, Rue St. Honore, and was bu- 
ried at three o'clock this morning. 

Banker (shuffling back his chair). My dear Count, 
you must be joking ! 

Ghost. I am not joking, sir. Among other motives 
for intruding upon you, I have to beg you to send back to 
my father this box, which was a present from you, with a 
request that he will accept it a second time from the hands 
of his deceased son as a memorial of him. 

Banker (with increased alarm). But, my dear M. 
le Comte, let me beg of you to recollect yourself. Here 
you are bodily with me. How then can you be dead ? 

Ghost (without deigning to answer the skeptic, pro- 
ceeding where he was interrupted). Write to him also, 
that the disappointment of my ardent wish to see him 
once more in this world, to thank him for all his paternal 
kindness and affection, rendered my premature death 
particularly painful. 

Banker (shuddering). But, my dear friend, is it pos- 
sible that you can — 

Ghost (depositing on the table two gold watches, a 
valuable diamond ring, and two hundred andjifty louis- 
7# 



78 GHOST STORIES. 

(Tors.) I have now no occasion for these earthly baubles, 
and I trust you will oblige me by transmitting these tri- 
fles also to my father. 

At these words the banker looked fearfully round to- 
wards a side-door. He attempted to reply, but his tongue 
refused its office. His hair stood erect, and his heart 
beat as audibly as the two gold repeaters that lay on the 
table. 

The spectre observed his agitation, and prepared to re- 
tire. " Pardon me," said he, " it was not my intention 
to frighten the friend of my father : but being dead, I had 
no alternative. The time is arrived when I must retire 
to my grave. Farewell." 

So saying, the ghost quitted the room and vanished, 
leaving the banker more dead than alive. He rang for 
his servants that he might be again among the living, and 
knew not what to think or to say. At the sight, however, 
of the money and valuables left in his possession, he very 
justly considered that the adventure was much too serious 
to be a trick upon him ; as nobody would think of throw- 
ing away several thousand livres for the gratification of 
seeing him frightened out of his wits for a moment. 
Neither would any one have ventured to palm false jewels 
on him who was so good a judge of those matters ; for he 
was satisfied at the first glance that the ring was a genu- 
ine solitaire of great value. He had no need to hold the 
watches to his ear to hear that they went well. He took 
up the louis-d'ors singly ; they were all real gold. He 
examined the box inside and outside ; it was the very same 
with which he had presented the old Count. He com- 
pared the portrait on the box with the face of the son, 
which he had just beheld in the ghost ; and with the ex- 
ception of the hair and the dress, in the style of which, to 
be sure, great alterations had taken place, he now found 



THE GHOST OF COUNT WALKENRIED. 79 

a most extraordinary resemblance between the father and 
the son. 

In this dilemma the banker drove forthwith to the hotel 
where his visitor informed him that he had lived. He 
had no doubt that Monsieur Michel, who kept it, would 
be able to throw some light on this otherwise inexplicable 
affair. 

"My dear Monsieur Michel," said he, " do you know 
the original of the miniature on this snuff-box ?" 

M. Michel. Certainly I do. The young Count lived 
long enough in my house : there is not one of my lodgers 
and boarders but knew him. 

Banker. The young mad Count von Walkenried. 

M. Michel. Mad ! — no, no — the late Count von Wal- 
kenried from Germany, who died here yesterday of an 
inflammatory fever, and who, according to our police regu- 
lations, was publicly buried early this morning. 

Banker. Surely you must be joking ! The same 
young Count whom this portrait, with the exception of 
the old-fashioned dress, so strongly resembles, was not 
half an hour ago in my house, and brought me money 
and valuables to the amount of many thousand livres. 

Before he had finished what he meant to say, M. Mi- 
chel started back in evident alarm, and the banker sunk 
fainting into a chair ; for who should enter the room at 
that moment but the ghost himself! The latter was some- 
what surprised and disconcerted on observing their terror. 
He intended that his part should finish when he quitted 
the house of the banker, hoping to reach the hotel before 
the latter. He sincerely begged his pardon for the trick 
which he had played him, to which he was, in some re- 
spect, authorized by nature, and assured him that he was 
neither the deceased Count von Walkenried nor his spec- 
tre. Here follows the solution of the mystery. 



80 GHOST STORIES. 

The friend whom the Count had found in the Baron 
de Vigny was, as it has already been observed, a man of 
acute understanding and of a lively disposition. But, 
what was still more remarkable, they were so like each 
other in figure and physiognomy, that a third person 
could only distinguish by the voice and dress which of 
the two stood before him. The two friends took advan- 
tage of this freak of nature to lead their acquaintance of 
both sexes into many droll mistakes, by exchanging 
clothes and names with one another. But the most serious 
of these deceptions suggested itself to M. de Vigny, when 
his friend, on his death-bed, put into his hands his father's 
letter, with the snufF-box, purse, watches, and ring, and a 
verbal message, to be delivered to the banker. The reader 
knows how punctually this commission was executed. 
The Count's valet supplied him with a suit of clothes of 
his deceased master's, which M. de Vigny had put on to 
visit the banker, and which he meant to change immediate- 
ly on his return. The banker had probably gone a shorter 
way, or the coachman who drove him had made greater 
haste, and thus he had reached the hotel before the "pre- 
tended ghost. M. Michel knew nothing of this disguise, 
and was, therefore, not a little terrified when he saw M. 
de Vigny, the very image of the deceased, enter the 
apartment in his clothes. 

How many chances there were, that, in so large a city 
as Paris, this deception should have passed undiscovered ! 
What an argument it would then have afforded in favour 
of the belief in apparitions ! It cannot be too often re- 
peated, that circumstances the most mysterious and unac- 
countable should not be pronounced supernatural and 
miraculous, because their natural causes happen to be 
concealed from our knowledge. 



81 



EXTRAORDINARY CONFESSION OF A 
GHOST. 



The circumstances recorded in the following narrative 
are stated to have really happened. They are of so 
horrible a stamp that, for the honour of human nature, 
every reader must wish them to be fictitious. They 
are given in the form of a letter, the name of the writer 
of which is indicated only by the initial. 

Yesterday — thus wrote M. de M .... to one of his 
friends, — yesterday, the pretty Mademoiselle Vildac was 
married to the amiable Saintville. As a neighbour, I 
was invited to the festivities given on the occasion. But 
the merriment of the day was succeeded, as far as I was 
concerned, by a night of such horror as my pen can but 
faintly describe. 

You know old Vildac, whose unlucky physiognomy 
was always so repulsive to us, and whom we were in 
consequence afraid to trust. I watched him narrowly 
yesterday, and fully expected that the joyous occasion of 
the marriage of his only daughter would relax his morose 
muscles, and plant a smile of satisfaction on his scowling 
visage. I was mistaken. Instead of taking a paternal 
interest in the tender emotion of his child, and the rapture 
of his son-in-law, he seemed, on the contrary, to be dis- 
pleased with the joy expressed in our faces ; and this 
unnatural father had wellnigh spoiled, by his detestable 
temper, all the pleasures of the day both for his children 
and his guests. 



82 GHOST STORIES. 

When bed-time arrived, 1 was shown, for want of a 
more commodious lodging, into a room in the great tower 
of the castle. Scarcely had I closed my eyes before I 
was roused by a dull noise, as I thought, over-head. I 
listened, and distinctly heard the rattling of chains and 
the sound of footsteps slowly descending the stairs. All 
at once my door flew open ; a spectre entered, dragging 
along the chains, which clanked frightfully, went up to 
the fire-place, stirred the fire, and pushed together some 
half-extinguished brands. A hollow voice pronounced 
the words " 'Tis a long time since I warmed myself!" 

I confess, my friend, — for why should I deny it ? — that 
I was thrilled with horror. I seized my sword to defend 
myself in case of emergency, and softly drew aside the 
curtains of the bed. By the glimmer of the fire, I per- 
ceived the emaciated figure of what appeared to be a ven- 
erable old man, half naked, with bald head and a snow- 
white beard. He was holding his hands, shivering with 
cold, to the fire. I was deeply moved. While I was 
thus surveying him, a flame now and then flickered from 
the embers. He looked thoughtfully towards the door 
by which he had entered, and then fixed his eyes stead- 
fastly on the floor. He seemed to be absorbed in the 
profoundest grief, and traces of long misery were deeply 
imprinted upon his furrowed face. 

In a few minutes he sunk, as if involuntarily, on his 
tottering knees. He seemed to pray. The only words 
I could understand were : " O God ! O God ! how just 
are thy judgments !" I now purposely made some noise 
with my curtains. 

"Is anybody here?" asked he; "is anybody in this 
bed ?" " Yes," said I, completely undrawing my cur- 
tains ; " but who are you, old man ?" He sighed, and 




•He 



face. 1 '— Page 82. 



-e d eep Iy batM ~ ~- £< graces * misery 



CONFESSION OF A GHOST. 83 

motioned with his hand, as if to signify that he was unable 
to speak for weeping. At length he became rather more 
composed. "I am the most wretched creature on the 
face of the earth," said he : "I ought, perhaps, to tell 
you no more ; but it is so many years since I have beheld 
human beings, that joy at the sight of one of my fellow- 
creatures hurries me away in spite of myself. Take 
compassion on me : my sufferings will perhaps seem less 
severe, when I have related them to you." 

The terror which I had at first experienced now gave 
place to pity. I put on my morning-gown, and took a 
seat beside him. He seemed affected by this proof of 
my confidence, seized my hand, and bedewed it with his 
tears. " Good man," said he, " first satisfy my curiosity, 
and tell me why you have to-night taken up your abode 
in this odious apartment, which is usually unoccupied ? 
What was that extraordinary rattling of carriages which 
I heard this morning about the castle ? Something out of 
the common course must have happened here." 

I told him that the bustle had been occasioned by the 
nuptials of Mademoiselle de Vildac. "What !" said he, 
raising his hands, " has Vildac a daughter ? and is she 
married ? May the God of Heaven bless her, and keep 
her heart pure — pure from the guilt of her progenitors ! 

I am . . Vildac, . . the grandfather of the 

young lady. . . I have a monster of a son — but no ; I, 
his father, must not accuse him — I have no right to do 
so." 

You may easily conceive, my friend, that my astonish- 
ment at this confession was unbounded. I knew that the 
father of our Vildac had died and was buried twenty 
years ago, and now he suddenly appeared before me at 
midnight. I sprang from my seat, receded a few steps, 



84 GHOST STORIES. 

fixed my eyes steadfastly on the spectre, and attempted to 
speak, but could not. 

The question, " Old man, are you really living, or are 
you a spectre ?" quivered on my tongue, but I could not 
give it utterance. He read it, no doubt, in my looks. 
" It is not a spectre," said he, " that you see before you, 
but a man who has been entombed alive. By the God 
of Heaven, I am the living dead grandfather of the bride 
whose nuptials you have been celebrating. The base 
cupidity of my cruel son, and the hardness of his heart, 
which never knew the soft emotions of love and friend- 
ship, rendered him insensible to the voice of nature. 
He put me in chains, that he might seize my posses- 
sions. He had one day visited a neighbouring gentle- 
man, whose father was recently dead : he found him 
among his tenants, receiving their rents and renewing 
their leases. This sight Vildac devoured with greedy 
eye ; and it made the most baleful impression upon his 
heart, which had long cherished a wish to be master of 
the paternal estate. He now became more sullen and 
gloomy than ever. In about a fortnight, three men in 
masks burst one night into my chamber, and dragged me 
half naked to this tower. How Vildac could give out 
that I was dead, I cannot tell ; but, from the tolling of 
bells, and the sound of funeral hymns, I inferred that it 
was my own obsequies they were performing. This idea 
filled my soul with mortal anguish. I solicited, as the 
greatest of favours, permission to speak to Vildac, but in 
vain. Those who, for these twenty years, have brought 
me bread and water to prolong my wretched life, proba- 
bly consider me as a criminal who is condemned to die 
in this tower. This morning I took notice that the man 
who brought my allowance neglected to fasten the door 



CONFESSION OF A GHOST. 85 

securely. I waited anxiously for night, that I might 
avail myself of his carelessness. I must not escape ; 
but the liberty of going a few steps farther than usual is 
a great treat to the inmate of a dungeon." 

When I had somewhat recovered from my astonish- 
ment, my first thought was to release the unfortunate 
man from this horrid confinement. " In me," said I to 
him, " the Almighty has sent you a deliverer. All are 
now fast asleep in the castle ; follow me. I will be your 
defender, your guide, your avenger." Instead of reply- 
ing, he fell into a profound reverie. " My long separation 
from all human society," he at length began, as if awak- 
ening from a dream, " has produced a total revolution in 
my sentiments and ideas. Every thing depends on ima- 
gination. I am now familiarized with all that renders 
my situation severe and terrible : why should I exchange 
it for any other. The die is cast : I will terminate my 
wretched career in this tower." 

This melancholy meditation, this contempt of liberty, 
this most unexpected language, combined with other ex- 
pressions, caused me to suspect some deeply-hidden secret, 
and yet I knew not how to reconcile all these things. In 
short, the whole affair was to me quite incomprehensible. 
The old man, however, diminished my astonishment, when 
he thus proceeded : — " In regard to the few days that I have 
yet to live, liberty has no charms for me. If my son is an 
atrocious villain, his innocent daughter has never done me 
any harm. Shall I pursue her into the arms of her hus- 
band with the disgrace of her family? No; rather 
would I press her to my heart and bedew her with my 
tears. But never, never must I, shall I behold her I 
Farewell ! The day begins to dawn. I must return to 
my tomb." 

8 



86 GHOST STORIES. 

I opposed his intention, and declared that I would not 
suffer him to go. " Oppression," said I, " has only im- 
paired the faculties of your soul ; but I will rouse your 
torpid spirits. Let us not now consider whether you ought 
to make yourself known ; it will be time enough for that 
by-and-by. The first thing to be done is to quit this place 
of horror. My chateau, my influence, and my purse, 
are at your service. If you desire it, not a creature shall 
know who you are, and Vildac's crime shall remain an 
inviolable secret. Can you now have any objection ?" 

"I am thankful for your kindness; would to God I 
could avail myself of it ! But I cannot, must not go." 

" Well, then, stay here ; but I will acquaint the governor 
of the province with your melancholy situation, and we 
will then release you by force from the tyranny of your 
unnatural son." 

" For Heaven's sake, make not an improper use of my 
horrid secret. Leave a monster like me to perish here ! 
I am unworthy of the liberty you offer. I have to atone 
for the most execrable, the most unnatural deed that vil- 
lain ever perpetrated. Look here : with horror this ac- 
cursed hand points to it ; — look at the stains of blood. It 
is the blood of my father, murdered by me — me, infernal 
monster ! — that I might obtain the earlier possession of 
the paternal inheritance. Ha! the image of my expir- 
ing parent still haunts me. See, his blood-stained arms 
are still affectionately extended to snatch me from the 
brink of hell — now, now, they drop ! O father, father ! 
thy avenger is despair !" 

During this rhapsody, the old man sunk on the floor, 
and tore the few silvery hairs that time had left on his 
aged head. His convulsions were frightful ; he did not 
venture to look me in the face — while I, for my part, was 



CONFESSION OF A GHOST. 87 

absolutely petrified. After a pause of horror not to be 
described, we heard something stirring ; it began also to 
be light. The old man, as if exhausted by the vehe- 
mence of his emotions, rose slowly from the floor. " You 
are filled with just abhorrence of me," said he. " Fare- 
well ! forget, if you can, that you have ever seen me. I 
shall now return to my tomb, and I vow never to quit it 
more." 

I was utterly incapable of replying, or of moving from 
the spot. The castle, and every object in it, now ex- 
cited a horror that I could not conquer ; I left it very early 
in the morning, and am at this moment preparing to set 
out for another of my estates. I hope to God that I shall 
never more behold the avenging instrument employed by 
Providence, nor can I even bear to reside in his neigh- 
bourhood. 



THE VILLAGE APPARITION. 

A TRUE STORY. 



The minister of a small village in Germany had been 
*ix weeks in possession of his new parsonage. He 
had duly visited his new neighbours ; the domestic ar- 
rangements were completed ; and his accounts with the 
widow of his predecessor were finally adjusted. Pleased 
at the termination of this important business, which, 
owing to the integrity of both parties, had been transacted 
without the intervention of lawyers, the pastor left his 
study, delivered the parcel containing the balance which 
he had yet to pay, to be forwarded to the widow, and 
then seated himself under the lime-trees which overhung 
the entrance of his habitation. Here he w r as soon joined 
by his affectionate wife ; they entered into conversation 
on the cheering prospect which promised them a decent 
provision, and the approach of those parental joys which 
they had not yet tasted. 

A country blooming as a garden was extended before 
them. After a long succession of sultry days, a storm 
about noon had cooled the atmosphere. All nature had 
assumed a fresher appearance ; the flowers were attired 
in gayer colours, and exhaled more fragrant perfumes ; 
the soft breeze wantoned about the glowing cheek of the 
husbandman, who, summoned by the evening bell, slowly 
returned with his implements to the peaceful cots of his 
village. 

"Dear Dorothy," said the pastor, when his wife rose 



THE VILLAGE APPARITION. 89 

to make preparations for supper, " the heat from the past 
sultry weather is still very perceptible in the house. 
Suppose we take our supper this evening here under the 
lime-trees ? We shall thus have an opportunity of airing 
the house thoroughly, and shall enjoy the beauty of the 
evening an hour longer in the open air." 

" You take the word out of my mouth," replied his 
wife. " The evening, indeed, is too fine, and we shall 
certainly relish the pigeons, which are at the fire, and a 
nice sallad, as well again here as in the close rooms." 

No sooner said than done. With cheerful industry 
Dorothy hastened to the kitchen ; the pastor fetched the 
table and chairs, laid the cloth, and even brought a bottle 
of wine out of the cellar. According to his general cus- 
tom, this indulgence was reserved for Sundays or particu- 
lar occasions ; but this day, when, as the reader has been 
informed, he had so happily terminated the business of 
settling his accounts, seemed to him worthy of being 
made an exception : it was an important day for him, as 
it was not till now that he felt himself completely installed 
in his office and habitation. Dorothy soon made her 
appearance with the pigeons, and she, with her husband 
and his sister, who had followed them to lend her assist 
ance in removing, and in their new domestic arrange- 
ments, sat down to the rural repast. It was seasoned by 
cheerful conversation and innocent mirth, whilst a late 
nightingale charmed their ears with his strains, and the 
worthy pastor quaffed the generous beverage out of a 
goblet on which, as an heir-loom of his grandfather's, he 
set a particular value, till the joyous tone of his mind 
was plainly expressed in his countenance. Thus the 
night stole upon them almost without their perceiving 
its approach. Dorothy was going to fetch a candle, but 
8* 



90 GHOST STORIES. 

her husband detained her. " The evening, to be sure, 
is still fine," said he, "but the air grows cooler. You 
know, Dorothy, that you must take care of yourself. As 
soon as I have finished this glass, we will all go in 
together." Scarcely had the pastor finished speaking — 
scarcely had Dorothy taken her seat again, when all at 
once both the females started up with shrieks of terror. 
The pastor looked about, and to his utter astonishment 
an apparition stood beside him. 

It was a tall, elegant figure. The face, of exquisite 
beauty, seemed tinged with the roseate glow of evening ; 
a rose-bud decorated its hair, which flowed in charming 
ringlets over a neck of snowy whiteness ; a robe of azure 
blue, studded with stars of gold, covered its form ; an 
effulgence resembling sunbeams encircled the angelic 
vision, which, with a look of inexpressible sweetness, 
seemed to invite the pastor to follow it. 

The two ladies, as the reader has been already informed, 
had flown from their seats. The divine, attracted by the 
enchanting appearance of the phantom, rose and followed 
it. His wife and sister would have detained him, but 
he disengaged himself. When, however, the figure, 
moving on before him, directed its course towards the 
churchyard, his wife once more went up to him, clasped 
him in her arms, and entreated him with such earnestness 
and alarm to proceed no farther, that, in consideration of 
her state, he desisted from his intention. He turned 
back with her, promising not to follow the apparition ; 
but he could not help asking, over and over again, how 
she could be afraid of a being, which, so far from 
having any thing terrifying about it, rather looked like 
an angel from heaven, whose invitations could only be 
designed for some good purpose. Both stopped before 




li The ladies started with affright from their seats, but the pastor, a courageous 
man, followed the apparition. 1 ' — Page 90. 



THE VILLAGE APPARITION. 91 

the house-door, and watched the spirit, which proceeded 
to the wall of the churchyard, rose to the top of it, and 
disappeared. 

The consequences of this adventure were, however, far 
from agreeable to the worthy pastor. The report of it 
was soon spread with various additions over the whole 
country ; the minister acquired the character of a vision- 
ary, and the neighbouring clergy, at the mention of his 
name, would turn up their noses, significantly shrug their 
shoulders, and talk a great deal about Swedenborg, 
Schropfer, and Co. ; nay, there were persons ill-natured 
enough to express their conviction, that the phantom was 
created by the wine alone. The superintendent himself, 
who came a few weeks afterwards to introduce the pastor 
to his new congregation, when the other guests had re- 
tired after the dinner given on the occasion, began to 
make very circumstantial inquiries concerning the health 
of his host. " You are a man," continued he, " who are 
fond of the sciences, who have little domestic occupation, 
and, on account of the sequestered situation of the place, 
cannot expect much society. Under these circumstances, 
I am afraid that you will stick too closely to your books 
and your writing-table, neglect that exercise which is so 
essentially necessary, and thus lay the foundation of those 
numberless complaints, which sooner or later are the at 
tendants of hypochondria. Let me persuade you to avoid 
this, my dear colleague. Rather take abundance of 
exercise, and consider your studies as a medium of con- 
veying aliment to your mind and assuaging your thirst 
of knowledge, but which should by no means be pur 
chased at the expense of your health and cheerfulness." 

"I can assure your reverence," replied the pastor, 
" that I have nothing to fear from the attacks of melan- 



92 GHOST STORIES. 

choly. I delight in rambling abroad to enjoy the beau- 
ties of Nature, and the charming environs of this place 
present irresistible inducements to me to gratify this incli- 
nation. I am likewise very fond of gardening, with which 
I amuse myself several hours a-day. I sleep well, and 
my digestion is good. I have a flow of spirits that very 
rarely fails me, and I cultivate the sciences in such a man- 
ner that they rather afford me matter for recreation, and 
consequently for pleasure, than for gloomy meditations." 

" Ah ! yes," rejoined the superintendent, " this is al- 
ways the language of you gentlemen ; but such diseased 
persons are in the most dangerous way as fancy that they 
ail nothing. Beware, my dear friend, and let me recom- 
mend to you plenty of exercise and a due proportion of 
medicine." 

Our clergyman now began to imagine, that there must 
be some particular reason for these exhortations. After 
pausing for some time, he thus addressed his visitor : — 
44 1 am infinitely obliged to your reverence for the interest 
you take in my health ; but it appears to me that you 
must have some particular motive for your well-meant 
advice, and therefore earnestly entreat you to favour me 
with an explanation." 

44 Well, then," answered the superintendent, " if you 
wish to know the real truth, I will tell you : I am in- 
formed you believe in the appearance of spirits. I have 
received such positive assurances of this fact, and from 
such respectable sources, that I cannot have any doubt 
on the subject. I have far too good an opinion of your 
understanding to seek the reason of it there, and must, 
of course, attribute it to some of those obstructions which 
at times operate so powerfully on the imaginations of per- 
sons possessing the strongest minds." 



THE VILLAGE APPARITION. 93 

The matter was now perfectly clear to our divine. He 
perceived that the report of the apparition had reached 
the metropolis, and had occasioned the marked behaviour 
of the superintendent, but from which business had be- 
fore prevented him from paying so much attention as he 
had done on this day. He therefore related to him the 
whole affair with the utmost fidelity and simplicity, and 
added, — " It could not be an optical deception ; for whence 
could it have proceeded in a lonely village, so far from 
any high road ? Neither could it have been any delu- 
sion of the senses ; for the figure was not only seen at 
the same moment, and watched till its disappearance, by 
himself, but likewise by my wife, my sister, neighbour 
A.'s man, and neighbour B.'s maid, who all give the same 
description of it. What it was, or what it meant, whence 
it came, or whither it went, I know not, and I can do no 
more than repeat Hamlet's common-place observation, so 
often quoted on similar occasions : — ' There are many 
things between heaven and earth which were never dreamt 
of by our philosophy.' " 

The superintendent smiled, shook his head, and said 
no more ; but next morning, as he mounted his chaise, he 
could not forbear calling once more to the pastor — " Re- 
member the conversation we had yesterday, and my good 
advice. Plenty of exercise," &c. &c. The pastor bowed 
with a smile, which expired on his lips, as if suddenly 
checked by a sharp twitch of the toothache. 

One day, in the summer of 17 — , a stranger came to 
me, and delivered a letter from the lady of General M., 
who informed me in it, that " the bearer, Mr. S** : % was 
an artist of great skill in optical deceptions, and who, in 
several exhibitions at H., had given great satisfaction to 
the public. As he intended to exhibit the same at C, 



94 GHOST STORIES. 

she should consider herself obliged if I would endeavour 
to promote the views of Mr. S., whom she was particu- 
larly anxious to serve." Mr. S., who was a man of con- 
siderable talents and prepossessing manners, soon found 
means to interest me in his favour, and I prevailed upon 
my father to allow him the use of a large empty apart- 
ment in the mansion in which we resided. As this apart- 
ment was upon the same floor with my room, I could not 
help having almost hourly occasions of seeing and speak- 
ing to the artist whilst employed in making his various 
arrangements. Sometimes he explained to me this or 
that part of his apparatus ; at others he entertained me with 
an account of his travels, his residence in the principal 
cities of Germany, and his various adventures. Thus, 
among other things, he related to me what follows : — 

" In one of my journeys from Dresden to Frankfurt, I 
took it into my head to visit the beautiful valley of A. 
I therefore turned off from the high road, but about noon 
was overtaken by a storm, and obliged to stop at a village, 
because my automata had got wet under the canvas 
which covered my carriage. Whilst I was drying them, 
I availed myself of the opportunity to clean my mirrors, 
and was just going to pack up my apparatus again, when 
my wife pointed out to me a party, consisting, as I after- 
wards learned, of the minister of the place and two 
females, who were supping under the shade of the lime- 
trees before the door of the parsonage. In a fit of playful 
humour, she persuaded me to dish up an apparition, as 
a dessert for the company ; and, as the parsonage was 
exactly opposite to my room on the ground floor of the 
inn, and only at a moderate distance, as the windows 
were low, and the party remained till late, I could not 
have had a better opportunity for complying with the 



THE VILLAGE APPARITION. 95 

wish of my frolicsome wife. I directed my mirror, and 
sent over a figure which I intended them to see. The 
ladies started with affright from their seats, but the pastor, 
a courageous man, followed the apparition, till one of the 
ladies, probably his wife, pulled him back, and I made 
the figure disappear at the wall of the churchyard. This 
event raised a great noise in the village. As I had en- 
tered the inn-yard by the back way, I had been noticed 
by but few persons ; on account of my puppets, I had 
Kept my door locked ; there were no children in the 
house, and at the time the apparition was seen, my host and 
his people, who took me for a dealer in toys, were en- 
gaged in housing a wagon-load of hay which had come 
in very late. I had therefore plenty of time to remove 
my apparatus, and thus to obviate all suspicion of my hav- 
ing any hand in the affair. The apparition was regarded 
as supernatural, and several of the inhabitants w T ho talked 
over the subject, under my window, were of opinion, 
that it was a token of a death that would speedily happen 
at the parsonage, not only because the apparition had 
directed its course from that place to the churchyard, but 
also because the pastor's wife was, for the first time, in 
the family way. 

" I know not how it happened," continued Mr. S., 
" that I purposely left these people in their error. I well 
knew how to appreciate the moral object of such phan 
tasmagoric exhibitions ; namely, to form delusive figures 
by the aid of optics, and by explaining the natural means 
employed for the purpose, to destroy the belief in super 
natural appearances : I knew, moreover, that no man can 
calculate the consequences of an action, and it w T as there- 
fore doubly my duty to clear up the matter as soon as the 
danger of my deception was exhibited in pretty strong 



96 GHOST STORIES. 

colours by those superstitious expressions. Notwith- 
standing all this, I left the people in their absurd notions ; 
and the mischief which I may have then occasioned still 
sometimes lies heavy upon my heart." 

"As for this cause of uneasiness," I replied, "I am 
glad to have it in my power to relieve you from it. The 
family of the pastor of A. still enjoys good health ; instead 
of having diminished, it has been increased by three 
robust, hearty boys ; and the character of a visionary, 
which he acquired, may now be done away by the very 
natural explanation of this occurrence. At the same 
time it may serve to convince him and his colleagues, 
that it is extremely silly to maintain, because we cannot 
account for any particular circumstance, that it must 
necessarily be inexplicable." 



97 



THE HAUNTED CASTLE. 



Barox de Bretiole, a colonel in the Danish service, 
was ordered by the king to proceed with all possible de- 
spatch, on a secret mission to the fortress of Rendsborg. 
He set off without delay to execute the commands of his 
Majesty, attended by one of his most trusty servants. 
Unaccustomed in such cases to heed any inconvenience, 
he disregarded fogs and darkness, tempests and rain. On 
this occasion, however, he was obliged to yield to circum- 
stances. A tremendous storm, profound darkness, and 
the badness of the road, compelled him reluctantly to stop 
at a small village. At this place there was no inn, but 
only a pot-house, where nothing either to eat or drink 
was to be had, and where the very sight of the bed was 
sufficient to take away drowsiness. Bretiole, as a soldier, 
had long since learned, in case of emergency, to make 
shift with a bundle of straw for his couch ; but fasting 
was a thing to which he could not so easily reconcile him- 
self. 

" Is there no gentleman's house in this village ?" asked 
he. — " No :" was the reply.— ' ; No parsonage either ?" — 
"Oh, yes. — "Are you on good terms with the parson?" 
— " Yes : he is a very worthy, excellent man." — " John, 
go to the parsonage, and inquire if we can have a lodg- 
ing there to-night." The clergyman, a man of hospita- 
ble disposition, and not without breeding, cheerfully pro- 
mised to accommodate him, and the colonel would have 
9 



98 GHOST STORIES. 

been equally welcome, even though he had not been a 
favourite of the king's, and travelling on a special com- 
mission. His host seasoned the simple repast prepared 
in haste with agreeable conversation, and the colonel or- 
dered one bottle after the other of the wine that he had 
brought with him to be fetched out. 

The conversation turned, among other things, on the 
ancient castle situated in the village. Throughout the 
whole country, far and wide, it had the character of being 
haunted by blood-thirsty spirits. Not a creature passed 
it without feeling a secret horror, and ejaculating a prayer. 
Bretiole, who never believed in real ghosts, but had long 
wished for a rencounter with reputed spectres, resolved to 
avail himself of this first opportunity that occurred for 
gratifying his curiosity, and therefore requested the ec- 
clesiastic to permit him to sleep in the castle. 

His host entreated him, for Heaven's sake, to relinquish 
his design. " I have no doubt, " said he, " that you are 
superior to the popular notions concerning apparitions ; 
but consider, colonel, that your temerity will infallibly 
cost you your life. You are not the first man of courage 
whose melancholy fate we have had occasion to deplore. 
Of all those who have hitherto ventured to pass the night 
in this fatal castle, there is no one but has been carried 
away by the evil spirits, either natural or supernatural. 
Why will you wantonly expose yourself to dangers which 
even the bravest and stoutest heart, owing to the inequal- 
ity of the contest, cannot hope to surmount ?" 

The colonel, nevertheless, adhered to his resolution, 
trusting to the approved excellence of his pistols. "As 
I am travelling on his Majesty's business," thought he, 
" I may certainly venture to show any spirit that ap- 
proaches too near me how well I can hit my mark." 



THE HAUNTED CASTLE. 99 

The worthy divine, whose eloquence was incapable of 
shaking his determination, parted from him with evident 
emotion, persuaded that he should never more behold him 
alive. " God be with you !" emphatically cried he, more 
than once. Bretiole, on the other hand, hastened with 
youthful impatience to the castle : he carried the lantern 
himself, while his servant and the parson's man followed 
with bed and bedding. 

Close to the entrance into the deserted castle, of which 
owls and mice seemed to be the only tenants, there was 
on the right a staircase which conducted into the great 
hall on the first floor. This hall had two doors leading 
into two contiguous rooms, one of which, being that near- 
est to the staircase, the colonel selected for his bed-cham- 
ber. He ordered two candles to be lighted, and, by way 
of precaution, had the lantern also placed near his bed. 
The parson's man was overwhelmed with fright ; cold 
perspiration covered his brow, and he trembled in every 
joint. He earnestly entreated that the colonel's servant 
might accompany him with the lantern to the outer door 
of the castle, or he should certainly die. The colonel 
himself went with him, and then, having carefully charged 
his pistols, and laying his drawn sword by his side, he 
retired to bed without undressing. 

About eleven o'clock he was roused by a tremendous 
noise. It was as though a regiment of hussars was en- 
tering the castle on horseback and marching upstairs, 
trailing their clattering sabres after them. None but the 
most determined slanderer could have charged the colonel 
with cowardice ; but he acknowledged, himself, that at 
this moment he felt a sensation more unpleasant than he 
had ever before experienced. It seemed as if some one 
was pouring a bucket of cold water over him ; his hair 



100 GHOST STORIES. 

began to stand on end, and he trembled all over. The 
appalling din lasted for some time, and gradually ap- 
proached his chamber. 

Seizing his sword with his right hand, and a pistol 
with his left, the colonel boldly awaited the assault. All 
at once, the door flew open as if by enchantment. At 
the terrific appearance of the spectre which entered, 
Bretiole's nerveless hands dropped the sword and pistol ; 
for, to his inexpressible horror and astonishment, the mo- 
ment the hideous apparition met his sight both candles 
were extinguished, but by what means he was utterly at a 
loss to conceive. The figure had fiery eyes, roared Jike an 
enraged lion, and rattled glowing chains. An infernal 
uproar now commenced over head : it seemed as if a 
hundred cannon-balls were rolling to and fro. Presently 
was heard a dismal howling and mewing, as though from 
a thousand dogs and cats ; and the neighing of horses 
swelled the hellish concert. All at once there was a stun- 
ning report resembling that of a twenty-four pounder. 
This was succeeded by the harmonious chime of bells, 
and, last of all, was heard a piercing shout of Victory ! 
A death-like silence ensued. 

The colonel lay like one inanimate. The spectre 
thumped him and his servant unmercifully, and beat them 
both with chains. It retired, and descended the stairs with 
a prodigious clatter. The colonel, who had been only taken 
by surprise, and who was not deficient either in presence 
of mind or firmness, soon recovered himself. " If this 
spectre be a man," thought he to himself, "he must cer- 
tainly have protected his body against steel and bullets ; 
but if it be a spirit, neither sword nor pistol will be able 
to make any impression upon it. Should the ghastly 
figure return, I will muster courage and softly follow 




•At the report, four sturdy fellows approached him with lights,"— Page 101. 



THE HAUNTED CASTLE. 101 

it as it retires." In this design he so confirmed himself, 
that he was resolutely bent on executing it, let the conse- 
quences be what they might. 

In about an hour the goblin again came up stairs with 
as frightful a noise as before. Bretiole, whose heart was 
in the right place, was not to be driven from his purpose. 
He patiently submitted to the discipline which the 
hideous being again bestowed on him and his servant. 
At length it rushed out at the door with the same clatter- 
ing and clanking noise which accompanied its entrance. 

The colonel, true to his purpose, involuntarily grasped 
a pistol and cautiously pursued the spectre. Seemingly 
aware of his intention, it retired with its face towards 
him, so that its fiery eyes served him instead of a lantern. 
The flaming spectre suddenly disappeared : all around 
was now dark as pitch, and Bretiole was obliged to pause. 
He had previously imagined that he could hear that the 
spectre was preceded by several persons, the sounds of 
whom suddenly ceased before he lost sight of the figure. 
At the same time he heard his servant above, shrieking 
and howling in the most lamentable manner. 

Hundreds, had they been in the place of our hero, would 
long ere this have been heartily sick of the nocturnal 
adventure, and after the first departure of the spectre 
would have quitted the haunted castle forever. Bretiole, 
however, was not yet daunted. Without farther consi- 
deration he formed the desperate resolution of pursuing 
his way along the dark passage till he should reach the 
end of it. Scarcely had he proceeded a few paces, 
when down he sunk into an abyss. At the bottom of it 
he fortunately found himself on a heap of hay and straw. 
In the fall he had involuntarily pulled the trigger of his 
pistol, which w T as cocked, and fired. At the report, four 
9* 



102 GHOST STORIES. 

sturdy fellows approached hirn with lights. " Audacious 
dog !" cried one of them, " how darest thou to presume to 
come hither ?" They seized him by the arms, and 
dragged him like a criminal into a room where upwards 
of twenty persons, some of whom seemed to be of the 
higher class, were seated round a table. The apartment 
was elegantly furnished, and adorned with costly tapestry. 
The eyes of ail were instantly fixed upon him ; and they 
seemed to be not less astonished at his appearance than 
he was at theirs. 

"Rash man !" at length said one of them, "what hath 
induced thee to come to this castle ? Has no one warned 
thee, no one told thee that thy temerity would infallibly 
cost thee thy life ? Prepare to die — for die thou must." 

" Die !" replied Bretiole ; " I swear by the king that 
ye will pay dearly for my death !" 

" Away with the impudent dog !" cried another : " we 
will show him that we heed not his threats." 

At these words, the four fellows again seized him, and 
shut him up in a dark, narrow dungeon. The colonel was 
by this time thoroughly convinced that he was not among 
spectres, but among men who were here assembled on some 
important but mysterious business. He perceived a ray 
of light which penetrated his prison by a knot-hole in the 
door. He clapped his ear to this aperture, and could 
hear his judges debating how the danger which menaced 
them from his intrusion could best be averted. Some 
voted, without hesitation, for the death of the adventurer ; 
but others were of a different opinion. At length it was 
agreed that he should be again brought before them and 
examined, and then they would consider of his sentence. 

The colonel acquainted them with his rank, the object 
of his journey, and his motive for passing the night in 



THE HAUNTED CASTLE. 103 

the castle : he acknowledged, unasked, that the parson 
had urgently dissuaded him from an encounter with the 
spirits which haunted this place, and stated the motives 
for his advice. "For the rest," he continued, "I leave 
it for your consideration, gentlemen, whether my death or 
my life is likely to be more dangerous to you. For my 
part, I am of opinion that the first would, and for these 
reasons. I am the bearer of despatches from the king, 
the forwarding of which to their destination is of far 
greater importance than my life. Here are those de- 
spatches, sealed, as you see, w r ith the royal seal. The 
clergyman of this place and his family know that I have 
taken up my lodging in this castle. If you deprive me 
of life, or merely of liberty, I shall instantly be missed, and 
the king, whose especial favour lam happy enough to pos- 
sess, will not fail to command the inmost recesses of this cas- 
tle to be ransacked, and the motives of your presence here, 
be they what they may, will inevitably be brought to 
light. I am a gentleman, and if I am not mistaken, there 
are among you persons who are my equals in that re- 
spect. These must know that I may be relied on when 
I pledge my word of honour never to betray the secret 
of this castle. Should you, however, deem an oath more 
binding than my word of honour, I am ready to swear." 

The judges looked at one another, seemingly at a loss 
what to reply, till at length a blood-thirsty wretch broke 
silence and said, in a firm tone, " For my part, I think 
this fellow only wishes to lull us to sleep with his smooth 
tongue. My advice is, that he be put to death without 
farther delay." "I am of the same opinion, 4 " cried a 
second. "And so am I," said a third. 

" Take him away," said the president of this infernal 
tribunal. The judges were for some time engaged in 



104 GHOST STORIES*, 

vehement discussion, but the majority were not only for 
sparing the colonel's life, but also for setting him at liber- 
ty, on his giving his word of honour ; and their opinion 
ultimately prevailed* Bretiole awaited the final result 
of this long consultation in his prison. As a man, he 
could not hear this decision of his fate from the lips of 
the subterraneous president without evident demonstra- 
tions of the greatest joy. 

He was now dismissed in the politest manner. Two 
of the attendants accompanied him to the passage through 
which he had come in the dark, and conducted him by a 
secret door to the staircase where he had commenced his 
pursuit of the spectre. The colonel thanked Heaven 
that he had got off with a whole skin, and hastened to his 
servant, whom, he found half dead with fright on his bed. 
The sight of his master revived the faithful fellow like a 
cordial ; and both hastened from the den of murderers to* 
the parsonage. The clergyman had been unable to sleep 
a wink for anxiety, and he was transported with delight,, 
when, contrary to his expectations, he beheld the colonel 
in his house again alive. 

Some years after this event r Bretiole, who had mean- 
while been appointed privy-councillor, was residing on 
his estate in Jutland. He was just entertaining a party 
of the neighbouring gentry, when a servant entered and 
informed him that a groom, with three led horses, desired 
particularly to speak to him. Bretiole went out, and the 
groom delivered to him a letter, saying, that it was a 
present from some gentlemen of his acquaintance. Put- 
ting the bridles of two exquisitely beautiful' chestnut horses 
into the hand of his attendant, the groom darted away 
with the other like a bird. The letter, which enclosed 



THE HAUNTED CASTLE. 105 

a finely executed gold medal of the value of twenty 
ducats, contained the following passage : 

" The subterraneous society which you once fell in 
with is dissolved, and therefore releases you from your 
promise and oath. It admires your silence, for which it 
is desirous of expressing to you its acknowledgments. 
The enclosed medal will enable you to guess its object, 
and though you know none of its members, either by 
name or rank, still they cannot deny themselves the plea- 
sure of presenting to you the two horses sent herewith as 
a token of their esteem." 

With a lightened heart Bretiole related to his guests 
the whole adventure, and all did him the justice to 
declare that the pranks of these coiners were so artfully 
devised, and so cleverly executed, that every one of them 
in his place would, in his first fright, have been convinced 
that he had seen a real spectre. 



106 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 

A TRUE STORY. 



The counting-house of Mr. Mellinger was haunted : 
of that fact, Tobias, the old man-servant, entertained no 
doubt, and often told Rosina, the housekeeper, though 
under the strictest injunction of the most sacred silence, 
that in the middle of the night he heard noises in it ; that 
the great ledgers were opened and shut ; that the ghost 
went about slipshod, and that he could frequently dis- 
tinguish the jingling of money. 

The house had been a nunnery ; the first floor was oc- 
cupied by Mr. Mellinger, who had fitted it up at consi- 
derable expense ; his business was confined to the ground- 
floor, and the exterior and all the rest were left in their 
original state ; partly from motives of economy, and partly 
because his only daughter, Emmeline, who found in it 
something romantic, had petitioned that the solemn gloom 
of the antiquated cloisters might remain inviolate. Her 
good taste had preserved the dark cells, and the whole 
arrangement of this portion of the building proclaimed 
the young and lovely owner a little visionary ; — not that 
she= affected to be thought so, for there couild not be a 
more natural character than that of Emmeline. Her edu- 
cation had been one of the utmost artkssness, and, igno- 
rant of the real world, no wonder if her glowing fancy 
created one of its own. She had lost her mother at an 
early age* and her father was so occupied, with his two> 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 107 

millions of dollars-, that it was impossible for him to at- 
tend much even to his only child. He had left her to 
the care of the Ursulines ; and thus, in a life of the ut- 
most retirement and tranquillity, she reached her eigh- 
teenth year. She had learned all that became her age 
and station, and so perfect was the holy innocence of her 
heart, that it would have cost her very little to devote 
herself for ever to a cloister. 

Mr. Mellinger had an old housekeeper, whom repeated 
acts of gross dishonesty obliged him to discharge ; m her 
stead he engaged Rosina, a young woman of excellent 
character, and fetched his daughter from the convent to 
place her at the head of his domestic affairs. The report 
of her beauty soon spread far and wide. As yet Mr. 
Mellinger had entertained no company ; but now aunts, 
cousins, uncles, and relations from all parts of the city, 
endeavoured to gain a sight of her ; for they thought that 
the young lady with a fortune of two millions of dollars 
would be no bad match for some member of their fami- 
lies, either old or young. She was invited to dinners, 
suppers, balls, and concerts : her father could no longer 
resist their importunities, and Emmeline at once emerged 
from her monastic retirement into what is called the 
world ; but gay feasts, splendid entertainments, and the 
homage which, in a thousand forms, was paid to her 
charms, made not the slightest impression on her mind, 
or change in her nature. She knew not that she was 
either rich or beautiful. Her father, however, was well 
aware of the objects they had in view — it did not escape 
him that the heavenly maiden and the godlike gold were 
what they sought : it required but little penetration to see 
through their designs, and with great skill he contrived 
to keep them at a distance without giving offence. At 



108 GHOST STORIES. 

night, after returning from a party, it was his custom to 
pass all the company in review before his daughter ; and 
so skilful was he in the art of ridicule, that there was 
scarcely a hair of their heads that was not pulled to 
pieces. So agreeable was his talent in this way, that 
Emmeline took more pleasure in listening to his criti- 
cisms, than in the conversation and amusements of the 
company itself. She had often heard that her father was 
a man of the most acute penetration, and that he had no 
equal in the knowledge of mankind : when, therefore, she 
again saw those of whom he had spoken, she recognised 
the truth of all his observations. Half a year had scarce 
ly passed, when Emmeline laughed at everybody ; con- 
sequently, all who were not absolute devotees to her 
charms or her fortune drew back, while the car of her 
triumph was followed only by silly wights, to whose 
sighs she would not condescend to listen, but who never- 
theless incessantly assailed her with amorous effusions in 
prose and verse. 

In proportion as she had been admired before, people 
now began to cool in her praise. The first stone was 
cast by daughters and mothers, among whom her beauti- 
ful face, her large expressive eyes, her noble carriage, 
her glittering jewels, the eternal variety of her apparel, 
made a thousand enemies. But still more bitter even 
than these were the suitors whose devotions had been de- 
spised, and whose vows she had rejected. Yet Emme- 
line was ignorant of the cause of this alteration : the 
mothers were still courteous, the daughters civil, and the 
sons flattering ; but she missed the hearty, open, and sin- 
cere attachment which she had found among the honest, 
affectionate Ursuiines in the days of her youth. Within 
the walls that separated her from the world, no on© en- 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 109 

vied her, no one was ridiculed by her ; there she pos- 
sessed the love of all, and nowhere else did she feel 
happy but there and in her solitary chamber. This Was 
exactly what Mr. Mellinger wished : his plan completely 
succeeded. She became weary of the tedious intercourse 
of heartless crowds, and returned to her housekeeping, 
her books, her instruments, and her flowers. 

The father was not at a loss for a son-in-law. He had 
been connected for many years with the wealthy Vene- 
tian merchant, Sponseri, whose only son, equal in fortune 
to Emmeline. having been bred to business under his 
father, was now about to enter a foreign counting-house. 
Old Sponseri, who had a speculative head, well knew 
the good circumstances of Mr. Mellinger : he knew, too, 
that he had an only daughter, whose age corresponded 
with that of his son ; that his widely-extended trade was 
an instructive school for a young merchant ; and that Mr. 
Mellinger had already sent into the world some very apt 
scholars. He therefore made the proposal that his son 
should serve in Mr. Mellinger' s counting-house for a few 
years without salary ; and it was accepted the more will- 
ingly, not only because he should thus save the expense 
of a clerk, but in the hope that young Sponseri and his 
daughter Emmeline might in time form a matrimonial 
connection, and thus a business be established with a capi- 
tal of not less than four millions. He therefore dismissed 
one of his clerks on the receipt of intelligence from Venice, 
that young Sponseri would in a short time have the 
honour to wait upon him in person. 

" Man proposes, but God disposes ;" and in this in- 
stance it was ordered that the fathers should be disap- 
pointed in their project. 

Thus matters stood at the time when Rosina imparted 
10 



110 GHOST STORIES. 

to Emmeline the intelligence which she had received 
from old Tobias under a promise of the strictest secrecy, 
regarding the strange noises he had heard in the count- 
ing-house. Emmeline listened to her with great atten- 
tion : in spite of her cultivated understanding, many 
superstitious notions of supernatural things still clung to 
her, owing to her monastic education ; and she could not 
overcome a certain anxiety produced by Rosina's story. 
On reflection, she considered whether it was not possible 
that some imposition might thus be attempted. The 
counting-house had originally been the oratory of the 
abbess : it adjoined the church, which was still used for 
public worship, and was separated from it only by an 
iron door, furnished with three stout bolts and locks. 

One of the bolts and two of the locks could be opened 
from the counting-house, and the others from the church : 
if, therefore, any of the servants had an understanding 
with the sexton, nothing would be easier than to enter the 
counting-house, and to do just as they pleased. The door- 
way should have been bricked up long ago, but it had not 
been agreed, when Mr. Mellinger bought the nunnery, 
who should defray the expense : it had therefore remained 
in statu quo, as Mr. Mellinger would not lay out a 
shilling more than he could help. 

Emmeline had promised Rosina not to mention a word 
about the supposed ghost to any person whatever; but 
she now considered it her duty to communicate the mat- 
ter to her father, that he might investigate it more minute- 
ly. Her father laughed at her, as well he might, for it 
was he himself, who, after midnight, had been heard slip- 
shod in the counting-house. There was a secret staircase, 
known to no one else, from his chamber, formerly occupied 
by the abbess, into the old chapel, now converted into a 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. Ill 

counting-house. In the niche in the counting-house was 
a kneeling figure of the patroness of the convent, St. Clara, 
with her hands crossed upon her breast, and this niche 
was the secret door of the staircase. Rich people seldom 
sleep soundly, and Mr. Meliinger formed no exception to 
the rule : at dead of night, therefore, he not unfrequently 
stole into his counting-house, to look over his books, and 
count his cash, and to see that none of his clerks had 
been negligent or dishonest. However, he gave no ex- 
planation on the subject to Emmeline, and satisfied her as 
to his laughter, by the assurance that old Tobias must 
have been dreaming. He never anticipated that the very 
next night his sentiments on this subject would be totally 
changed. 

Four weeks had now elapsed since the arrangement 
had been made respecting young Sponseri. Mr. Meliin- 
ger began, from the delay, to apprehend that something 
had happened to him : and that very afternoon he had 
written to the father, to acquaint him with his fears. 
At night he could not sleep, and as usual went down into 
his counting-house, and was turning- over his books and 
papers, when the iron cross that had served for a knocker 
to the door ever since the time when the building was a 
nunnery, gave three such thundering raps, which rever- 
berated through the lofty vaulted apartments, that old To- 
bias sprung out of bed, and verily believed that it could 
be none but the devil himself who made such a disturb- 
ance. He hastened with all possible speed to the house- 
door, opened it, and holding up a lantern, would have 
cried out with a loud voice, " Who is there ?" but that a 
death-pale figure, enveloped in a green mantle, stared 
him in the face, and the horror-struck Tobias was con 
vinced that he beheld a living corpse. 



112 GHOST STORIES. 

The Green Mantle, without uttering a word, entered 
the house, and proceeding, as if he had known all the 
passages, to the door of the counting-house, struck upon 
it three times so loudly that the whole building again re- 
echoed. Mr. Mellinger trembled : the previous knocking 
at the house-door at so unseasonable an hour had alarmed 
him, and he had hurried up to his chamber for the key 
of the counting-house, that he might open it and see who 
it could be that so impetuously demanded admission. 
At the very moment when he was turning the key in the 
lock, the three heavy blows dealt on the outside of the 
solid door plated with iron made his heart sink within 
him, and he recollected what Emmeline had told him in 
the morning about the nocturnal visitor. 

When the Green Mantle perceived that the door was 
not fastened within, he opened it, stalked into the count- 
ing-house, and, without uttering a word, held forth a let- 
ter to Mr. Mellinger, who, at the first glimpse of the 
deathly visage, was utterly dismayed. He took it with 
a trembling hand, and found that it was from old Sponse- 
ri, introducing the bearer as his son Guilielmo. 

During the reading, Mr. Mellinger recovered a little ; 
he secretly laughed at his needless apprehensions, and re- 
ceived the son of his old friend in such terms as are cus- 
tomary in business on these occasions. He welcomed 
him to his house, and would have embraced his intended 
son-in-law, but the young man drew back. " Touch me 
not," cried he, in a hollow tone, — "I am dead — I expired 
this morning — I must return to the place from which I 
came. Farewell I" 

Mr. Mellinger' s blood curled as the Green Mantle thus 
spoke with dull unmoving eyes ; and as the deadly cold 
hand, stretched forth from the folds of the robe, touched him 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 113 

at parting, he shrieked aloud ; his hair stood on end, and 
the marrow chilled in his bones. The Green Mantle 
stood like a statue of marble ; all life was extinct in him ; 
speech, and the power of waving his cadaverous hand, 
alone remained. 

"To-morrow," he continued, "I shall appear to my 
father in Venice. Give me a receipt for the safe delivery 
of the letter I have brought, that I may hand it to him. 
Look you to my decent interment, for I am a stranger 
here, and know none but you. If Providence then per- 
mits my return to this world of misery, I shall soon see 
you again. I shall report all your deeds to the eternal 
God, who judges us as we judge others : act accordingly. 
Farewell ! I yearn for my grave ; but first the receipt !" 

Mr. Mellinger, with palsied hand, complied : the pale 
spirit seized it, thrust it into the cuff of his mantle, and 
then proceeded to the door, followed by the merchant. 
Tobias was waiting there with a light, but seeing his mas- 
ter tremble with fear, could scarcely hold it. The corpse- 
like spectre, with ghastly look, stared him in the face, and 
without uttering a word, glided slowly past him, and 
quitted the house. 

" Follow the stranger," whispered Mr. Mellinger, in 
the ear of the petrified Tobias, " and see where he goes 
to." 

Tobias shook his head: "My dear master," returned 
he, in a subdued tone, " that is no stranger ; it is a corpse, 
a spirit, a ghost, or, for aught I know, the devil himself." 

iC My dear Tobias," rejoined Mr. Mellinger, in a tone 
of unusual kindness, " I will give you two guilders ; go, 
follow him ; see where he stops : it is a stranger ; it is 
young Sponseri of Venice ; I forgot to ask where he 
lodges." 

10* 



114 GHOST STORIES. 

Mr. Mellinger had never before called his old faithful 
servant " dear Tobias," neither had he ever offered him 
two guilders for a single errand. 

Tobias mustered courage, crossed himself, and went. 
He followed the mysterious figure at a distance through 
the long silent street : just as the clock of the next church 
struck twelve, it reached the cemetery of the Augustine 
friars, and knocked thrice at the iron gate, which was 
opened from within. The Green Mantle entered ; the gate 
closed after him ; and old Tobias was thrilled with horror. 
He turned quickly round, hastened home, and reported to 
his astonished master what he had seen and heard. 

" Say not a word, Tobias, about what has happened," 
began Mr. Mellinger, giving the old man the two guild- 
ers which he had promised : " to-morrow I will endeavour 
to learn where Mr. Sponseri lodged. Now go quietly to 
bed, and keep the matter a profound secret." 

Neither Mr. Mellinger, nor his servant, slept a wink 
that night. The former read over and over again the let- 
ter delivered to him by the ghastly messenger. It was 
certainly the handwriting of the elder Sponseri, who, 
with paternal affection, recommended to him his son Gui- 
lielmo, and solicited his kind attention to the young man. 
He laid considerable stress on his suffering an only child 
to go so far from home to finish his mercantile education 
under Mr. Mellinger, and concluded with requesting to be 
informed from time to time how his son conducted him- 
self, and to supply him annually with a thousand ducats 
for pocket money, and to charge the same to his account. 

From the date of this letter it had been written five 
weeks ; the journey could not take up more than one : 
consequently, there had been from some cause or other a 
delay of four weeks in the delivery. According to his 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 115 

declaration he must have died very recently, for he was 
still unburied. Mr. Mellinger hoped in the morning tc 
learn of the police the residence of the deceased, and re- 
solved to await the result of this inquiry before he wrote 
to acquaint his father with the fatal intelligence. 

The words of the apparition lay like a mass of red-hot 
iron upon his heart. " I shall report," said he, " all your 
deeds to the eternal God, who judges us as we judge 
others." What did the pallid inhabitant of the nether 
world mean by this intimation ? He felt as though the 
last judgment of God was to be held forthwith upon him. 
He viewed his past life with contrition, and resolved to 
reform. 

Next morning, immediately after breakfast, he hurried 
to the police-office to inquire the residence of Guilielmo 
Sponseri of Venice. The clerk turned to the register. 
"He lived," said he, "at the Sun Inn, No. 14, and died 
yesterday morning at the age of twenty-five years," add- 
ing a full description of his person. Every particular 
exactly tallies," replied Mr. Mellinger with profound 
emotion, clapping his hand to his brow, and with faltering 
step retiring from the office. He hastened to the Sun 
Inn, and on inquiring for young Sponseri, was conducted 
to No, 14, where he beheld the terrific visitant of the pre- 
ceding night, extended on a bier, with a green mantle 
loosely thrown over him, and a white paper in the cuff. 

The old man's heart was ready to break : he wept, per- 
haps for the first time in fifty years, that is to say, in his 
whole life. " What paper is that in the cuff?" said he 
to the waiter, who had conducted him to the chamber. 
The waiter drew it forth, opened it, and showed it to Mr. 
Mellinger, who trembled violently, when he saw that it 
was the receipt which he had written with his own hand 



116 GHOST STORIES. 

the preceding night. "Put it back ! put it back again !" 
said the horror-struck Mr. Mellinger with averted face, 
recollecting that Guiiielmo had told him he intended to 
give this receipt to his father to prove the due delivery 
of his letter. Having uttered a silent prayer at the foot 
of the corpse, he hastened home in great perturbation, 
and was received by Emmeline with a face in which it 
was easy to read that she was acquainted with all that 
had passed. Tobias had told the whole story to Rosina, 
and Rosina could not help telling it to Emmeline. 

" On Sunday, my dear, we will receive the sacrament," 
said he, " and every Saturday you shall give away ten 
dollars in charity to the poor; and if you chance to hear 
of any one in distress, tell me, that I may relieve him. 
Henceforward, too, you may allow Tobias and Rosina 
bread and butter for supper, and beer twice a week. I 
have no objection to your giving them meat for dinner, if 
you think fit ; and tell me if I appear close or stingy ; 
people say I am so, but God knows it is not true ; and I 
will do every thing in my power to avoid the appearance 
of a penurious disposition." 

Emmeline was deeply affected ; but she rejoiced at the 
same time at the change in her father ; for she now began 
to perceive that he had not always been so kind as at this 
moment. Mr. Mellinger then sent for his chief clerk, 
and briefly informed him that Mr. Sponseri, who, as he 
knew, was expected from Venice, had arrived in their 
city, but died almost immediately. He directed him to 
give orders for a very splendid funeral, to be charged to 
the account of Sponseri, senior. "My dear Stipps," 
continued Mr. Mellinger, " you must invite all the princi- 
pal houses in the place ; and I must beg you to follow 
the corpse to the grave in my stead : the melancholy 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 117 

event has so deeply affected me, that I am quite ill, and 
it will be impossible for me to attend." 

Mr. Mellinger also gave directions that an advertisement 
should be inserted in tbe public papers for a clerk to con- 
duct the English and Italian correspondence, which young 
Sponseri was to have undertaken ; adding a particular 
injunction that it should be very short, on account of the 
exorbitant charges of the newspaper gentry. 

The young man was accordingly interred with the ut- 
most magnificence, and Mr. Stipps was called in to give a 
report of his proceedings. " How did you dress him, Mr. 
Stipps ?" asked Emmeline, who had listened to him with 
evident interest : " in black, of course." — " So we intend- 
ed," replied the clerk:, "but we found a paper in which 
he expressly desired to be buried in the green mantle 
which he had always worn. There was a note sticking 
in the cuff, and that we left there, because the waiter at 
the Sun assured me that you, Sir, had read it and express- 
ly ordered that it should not be taken away." 

"Did the young man look well?" inquired Emmeline. 

" No doubt he did when alive," replied the clerk ; 
"but when people are dead — when the eyes are deep 
sunk, the cheeks pale and hollow, the face livid, cold and 
stiff — they do not usually look over and above well. This 
whole business with young Sponseri is most extraordi- 
nary ; people know not what to think of it !" 

" How so ?" asked father and daughter both at once. 

"Excuse me, Sir; I do not say that I think any ill, 
but only, that I know not what others may think. This 
young gentleman, the son of your friend, died in the 
morning ; he was laid out, the green mantle spread over 
him, and a sheet over that, and the room-door locked. 
At night, at eleven o'clock precisely, the lock of the door 



118 GHOST STORIES. 

rattled — this the waiter heard distinctly ; the porter who 
sleeps down stairs awoke with the noise, and thinking 
that some one was at the house-door, he rose : at that mo- 
ment the Green Mantle passed him in the dark, and said 
in a deep, hollow, sepulchral voice, « Open the door !' 
The man half asleep and overpowered with fright, obeyed 
this command, and the Green Mantle glided past him in- 
to the street. What say you to this ?" 

"God be merciful to his soul I" ejaculated Mr. Mellin- 
ger. 

" Well, and next morning, what then ?" asked the as- 
tonished Emmeline. 

" Why, next morning, there lay the corpse on the bier 
as before, with the green mantle (Tver him, and in the 
cuff the paper, which, according to your directions, Sir, 
was to be buried with him. Not a creature saw him 
come back or heard the door open for him ; the lock was 
uninjured ; and the waiter is ready to make oath that the 
paper was not in the cuff before : he took it out, opened 
it, and found your name, Sir, at the bottom, but the rest 
of the contents he could not read, it was written so illegi- 
My." 

"I believe I trembled a little," said Mr. Mellinger, in 
a low tone. 

" For heaven's sake !" cried honest Stipps, interrupting 
him, " was it then really your writing ? Where — if I 
may venture to ask the question — where did you meet 
with this terrible Green Mantle ? It must have been at 
night ! Be not angry, Sir, but indeed there are some 
dreadfully mysterious circumstances connected with this 
Mr. Sponseri. 

"Ask me not, good Stipps," rejoined Mr. Mellinger, in 
a tremulous voice which betrayed his agitation : " I can- 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 119 

not and dare not answer even you. Let us pray to God, 
for we are all poor sinners, to keep us in the right path, 
that we may never more hear of this tremendous Green 
Mantle." 

"There is no likelihood of that: the vault in which 
the coffin is deposited is firmly closed ; no living creature 
could get out of it, much less a dead person." 

Among the applications in answer to the advertisement 
in the newspapers was one from a young man, a native 
of Bremen, named Wilmsen, who had the strongest re- 
commendations from one of the first houses at Basle, in 
whose employ he had been. He said that he had the 
offer of a situation at Naples ; but if he could obtain one 
with Mr. Mellinger, he should prefer it, because his house 
had been long celebrated as one of the most eminent in 
the mercantile world, and he hoped there to enjoy oppor- 
tunities of improving and extending his knowledge of 
business. He expressed himself with such modesty, 
that Mr. Mellinger was quite delighted with the com- 
pliment. He told the young man, who was very 
handsome, that he should have no objection to take him 
if he were competent to the performance of the duties 
which he required, and if they could agree respecting 
terms. 

" I know not for what department exactly you need a 
person," rejoined young Wilmsen, " but in the house 
which I have just quitted, I conducted the German, 
French, English, and Italian correspondence, and I may 
say without vanity, that I speak those languages with 
tolerable fluency. In case of emergency, I can do some- 
thing in Russian ; and as to my handwriting, permit me 
to submit to you a little specimen" — it was just like cop- 
perplate. " With regard to terms I cheerfully renounce 



120 GHOST STORIES. 

any salary in the hope of acquiring here that in which I 
am still deficient. In my former situations I have saved 
enough to last me for several years. I have therefore 
but one wish, and this is, that you would have the con- 
descension to permit me to board at your table and to 
lodge in your house. Your clerks, as I am informed, all 
board and lodge elsewhere ; but young men sometimes 
get, in consequence, and indeed unavoidably, into bad 
company. In my former situations I have enjoyed this 
privilege, and been extremely comfortable. At Naples 
I should be sure to obtain it — but I should not like to 
relinquish my prospect here." 

Mr. Mellinger hemmed, and was about to signify his re- 
fusal, for never since the establishment of his house had one 
of his clerks eaten at his table, excepting on Christmas day, 
when it was his custom to give an entertainment to all 
the persons in his employ ; but the young and well-in- 
formed stranger, whose services he could gain at so cheap 
a rate, seemed too valuable a prize to be lost for the sake 
of that single condition. He therefore replied that he 
would consult his daughter, to whom he left the manage- 
ment of his house, and give him an answer. 

Accordingly he acquainted Emmeline with the circum- 
stance. " Let's see him first," said the daughter of the 
wealthy Mr. Mellinger, with something of the spirit of 
commercial pride. " Oh ! he will be sure to please you," 
replied the father, little thinking of the danger to which 
he might possibly expose Emmeline by the introduction 
of the young stranger into her company, and considering 
only what an advantageous bargain he should make by 
securing the benefit of his talents and industry at such a 
price. " He is very gentlemanly in his deportment ; not 
like the generality of young men, but as modest as he is 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 121 

handsome. He speaks well, and will perhaps make our 
table a little more cheerful." 

" Just as you please, father," said Emmeline ; " we may- 
soon arrange that matter. We can let him have the 
green room ;" (which, by-the-by, was one of the best in 
the house ;) that will be good enough, I suppose." 

" Quite, quite ! His victuals will not cost much, and 
you need pour him out but one glass of wine after 
dinner — more would but heat his young blood." In this 
manner they proceeded to arrange the whole course of 
his meals, the old gentleman enforcing that degree of 
frugality, or, more properly speaking, parsimony, for 
which he had been distinguished through life. 

Young Wilmsen called the following morning, learned 
with manifest joy that his terms were accepted, took pos- 
session of his post, and had his seat allotted to him at the 
desk. His first duty was to inform old Sponseri of the 
sudden decease of his son, agreeably to the instructions 
he received from Mr. Mellinger. The latter of course 
abstained from the slightest allusion to the nocturnal ad- 
venture, and charged his new clerk to assure his corre- 
spondent of his most profound sympathy in this his painful 
loss. According to his representation, young Sponseri 
had sent to request him to come to his inn ; he hastened 
thither immediately, but on his arrival found him dead. 
He went on to state that all the attempts made for the pur- 
pose of recalling him to life having proved fruitless, he 
had caused him to be interred on the third day with all the 
demonstrations of respect due to his family ; and an account 
of the expense was enclosed. In this account not a kreut- 
zer was forgotten. " I should wish you, Mr. Wilmsen," 
added Mr. Mellinger, " to deviate a little from our ordinary 
style : make it a little pathetic — you understand me. Old 
11 



122 GHOST STORIES. 

Sponseri likes that sort of thing; he is worth a couple of 
millions, and one would willingly afford such a man as 
that a gratification which costs nothing." 

Wilmsen having rapidly finished a rough draft of the 
letter in Italian, submitted it with great diffidence to his 
employer. He read it with such delight that he could 
not refrain from exclaiming to himself as he proceeded : 
" Excellent ! Capital ! Just the thing !" In fact he was 
compelled secretly to admit, that such a composition had 
never yet issued from his counting-house. 

Dinner-time arrived, and Mr. Mellinger took Wilmsen 
along with him, and introduced him to his daughter. 
Emmeline blushed as he bowed to her, for she recollected 
to have seen him at the cathedral, where he had knelt 
and prayed by her at the high altar. She had carried 
away with her the image of the handsome young man, 
without knowing herself how deep an impression it had 
made on her heart, and she was now surprised by the 
appearance of the original. He sat opposite to her : he 
gazed intently on her lovely figure ; but whenever her 
eye met his, he cast it down on his plate and seemed ab- 
sorbed in thought. 

" The young man is rather awkward," observed the 
old gentleman to his daughter, after dinner ; " he dropped 
his fork twice, and the stain of the red wine which he 
spilt when you handed him the cake will never be got 
out of the table-cloth." 

" Want of education, father," replied Emmeline, by 
way of excuse. " How can that be," rejoined her father, 
" with such various and extensive acquirements ? — then 
he writes like a Gellert, and is a merchant born into the 
bargain. I am exceedingly pleased with him ; though 
the stains vex me — they will never be got out of that 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 123 

cloth. I believe I had better make him an allowance for 
his board : his conversation is none of the liveliest ; nay, 
I was obliged to ask him twice before he answered my 
question concerning the course of exchange at Basle, so 
sparing is he of his words." 

" He may improve in time, father," replied Emmeline, 
who was at no loss to guess the cause of Wilmsen's em- 
barrassment when he dropped his fork and spilt his wine, 
and who discovered in his abstraction the tenderest hom- 
age ; for her eye was just then fixed upon him when 
her father began to talk about Basle and the course of 
exchange. A feeling to which she had hitherto been a 
stranger pervaded her innocent bosom; she could have 
laughed and wept at the same moment. She enjoyed the 
first triumph over her father. The young and handsome 
clerk had been much more attentive to her than to him. 
Her vanity was flattered ; and a tender emotion of her 
heart subsided into an inexpressible interest in behalf of 
the stranger, whose whole deportment plainly evinced 
that she was far from indifferent to him. 

At night Wilmsen sent back the parsimonious meal 
ordered for him by Mr. Mellinger, for he had bespoken 
a supper at the first hotel in the city, to which he had 
invited all the clerks of the house. Next morning Stipps 
gave his master a faithful account of the entertainment. 
There was a profusion of all the delicacies that the city 
could furnish. The first three toasts proposed by Mr. 
Wilmsen were, "Mr. Mellinger" — "Miss Mellinger" — 
"Success to Commerce;" and they were drunk to the 
sound of drums and trumpets. The most costly wines, 
particularly Champagne, had been freely circulated ; but 
the moment the clock struck ten, Wilmsen apologized for 
being obliged to leave the company, as he was anxious to 



124 GHOST STORIES. 

avoid causing any disturbance to the family of his em- 
ployer. The rest of the party remained carousing till a 
late hour, the landlord having express orders to supply 
whatever was required, and even old Tobias was made 
royal with the good cheer. 

Mr. Mellinger pricked up his ears : he had never be- 
fore had such a man in his counting-house ; neither had 
his health and his daughter's ever yet been drunk to the 
sound of drums and trumpets. " Give him two glasses 
of wine to-day," said he to Emmeline, when old Stipps 
had retired: "it must have cost him something to do us 
this honour, and the people in the neighbourhood must 
have been astonished to learn that it was my clt rks who 
were regaling themselves in such style.*' 

At dinner this day Wilmsen was a little more at home, 
but still he did not always answer the questions asked by 
the old gentleman. Emmeline did not once open her lips 
to him, but her eyes frequently rested unconsciously, for 
a minute together, on the young stranger. Mr. Mellinger 
thanked him for the toasts of the preceding evening. 
Wilmsen apologized for having presumed to propose 
them ; '-but,'' said he, "the little entertainment which I 
gave by way of purchasing my freedom in the society of 
my comrades, who have the good fortune to be in your ser- 
vice, did not acquire its appropriate character of festivity 
till we rose with brimming glass in hand, to express our 
ardent wishes to that Providence which has brought us 
here together, for the duration of the prosperity of our 
young mistress and yourself." Mr. Mellinger, manifestly 
gratified by the honour done him, poured out with his 
own hand a third glass for the prepossessing speaker. 
Emmeline would willingly have thanked him too for his 
remembrance of her in the circle of his new associates, but 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 125 

she could not open her lips. She appeared strange, nay 
ridiculous, in her own eyes ; she was vexed with herself: 
the moment was past for paying him a compliment on the 
subject, to which it was now impossible to recur. What 
must Wilmsen think of her ? He had, if she was not 
mistaken, cast towards her a look of expectation, and she 
had been silent ! She upbraided herself the whole day 
for it. 

In the evening, the frugal supply of bread and butter 
dealt out for him by the careful Rosina Avas again re- 
turned. Wilmsen supped out ; and the same excuse was 
made for several succeeding days. 

One afternoon an express arrived from Venice w T ith the 
following letter from the elder Sponseri : 

" I am very uneasy. Yesterday I received your let- 
ter, in which you inform me that my son is not yet ar- 
rived. Last night I dreamt that my Guilielmo, wrap- 
ped in the green mantle which he was accustomed to 
wear here, came like a ghost to my bedside, and whis- 
pered in my ear : — ' I am dead, father ; but I delivered 
your letter to Mr. Mellinger, and his receipt for it I lay 
upon this table. He has interred me decently : thank 
him for the last honours that he has paid to my remains. 
Now, farewell ; it is past midnight, and I must return to 
my dark, cold grave. The grave is a dismal place, fa- 
ther. You shall soon hear more of me.' — I awoke — the 
figure of my son was gone. On recovering from my 
fright, I smiled to think that it was only a dream. How 
is it possible, thought I, that death should so soon have 
snatched away my robust, hearty, blooming Guilielmo, in 
all the vigour of early manhood ? With this idea I strove 
to silence my awakened apprehensions, when his words 
IP 



126 GHOST STORIES. 

concerning your receipt recurred to my mind : I turned 
my eyes to the table that stands by my bed, and upon it 
lay, sure enough, a piece of paper. I could scarcely 
breathe ; I rang for the servants, as if the house were on 
fire : a cold perspiration issued from every pore. ' Lights ! 
lights ! for God's sake, lights !' cried I, in an agony of 
terror. Lights were instantly brought : I snatched the 
paper from the table ; it was a receipt written by you, 
but evidently with a trembling hand. My senses forsook 
me. I can tell you no more ; but I conjure you, my 
friend, to explain the mystery. I would come to you my- 
self, but that I am confined to my bed in consequence of 
the shock which this circumstance has given me. Com- 
municate the contents of this letter to nobody. Answer 
me immediately hy express, and without reserve — I am 
prepared for the worst. Adieu !" 

This letter overwhelmed old Mellinger with astonish- 
ment. From the date, Guilielmo must have delivered 
the receipt at Venice the first night after his interment. 
By no human means, not even by the flight of a bird, 
could the distance have been traversed in that time. "I 
shall record all your actions," were the words of the mys- 
terious Green Mantle, and that he possessed supernatural 
powers was plainly proved by this letter. 

Mr. Mellinger now sat down to write to the discon- 
solate father, and gave him a faithful account of all the 
particulars connected with the horrid apparition. From 
this time forward he became most conscientious in all his 
dealings ; and he manifested, to the surprise of all his 
acquaintance and the whole city, so kind, so humane, 
and so generous a disposition, that many who had wit- 
nessed his former parsimony, his severity to poor artisans, 
and his unfeeling treatment to debtors who were unable 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 127 

to pay him to the moment, were often tempted to believe 
that his understanding was deranged. 

Universally as he had before been hated, so universally 
was he now beloved and respected. Numberless traits 
of his generosity were circulated from mouth to mouth ; 
so that he gained, throughout the whole commercial world, 
the reputation of one of the most honest and upright of 
merchants. 

Shortly after the remarkable catastrophe already re- 
corded, he sustained several heavy losses. In one town, 
goods belonging to him to the amount of more than fifty 
thousand dollars were destroyed by fire ; and an enemy's 
corps seized timber of his lying in one of the ports of the 
Baltic, worth eighty thousand dollars more. A cargo of 
wheat, destined for England, together with the ship, was 
taken by privateers; and he lost large sums by the failure 
of two houses at Hamburgh and Amsterdam. All these 
disasters occurred within the short space of two months. 
He could not help deploring these misfortunes to his own 
people, though, as a prudent merchant, he said nothing 
about them to others. On such occasions Stipps used to 
shrug his shoulders, and console him with such wise 
saws as, " Fine weather cannot last for ever" — " Things 
must mend when the worst is at an end" — " When 
need is greatest God's help will not be latest" — and the 
like. Wilmsen also shrugged his shoulders. "Did I 
not," said he, " daily witness so many benevolent actions, 
which give you, Sir, a just claim to the choicest blessings 
of heaven, I should often be tempted to regard these mis- 
fortunes as divine visitations : as it is, I begin almost to 
question the justice of Providence." Old Mellinger re- 
sisted this daring conclusion. "Then," rejoined Wilm- 
sen gravely, " I am constrained to believe that whomsoever 



128 GHOST STORIES. 

God loves he chastens." Mellinger shook his head in 
silence, and turned away, that the young man might not 
see the anguish depicted in his face at the mention of 
divine visitations. 

About this time, when Germany was reduced to the 
lowest state of humiliation, a large body of troops was 
quartered in the vicinity of the town where Mr. Mellinger 
resided. A courier, who had been for some time expected, 
was missed after quitting the next station, and not a trace 
of him could ever be discovered. From the general dis- 
position of the inhabitants towards the hostile corps to 
which this courier belonged, it was not improbable that 
he had been met by some desperado who had given him a 
passport to the other world. The postilion, also, who 
should have driven the courier the last stage, had never 
since been heard of. The gens-d'armes were uncom- 
monly active in their inquiries into every circumstance 
likely to elucidate this affair ; and in less thau a week, to 
the consternation of the whole city, Mr. Mellinger was 
seized by them in open day, in his own house, put in 
irons, and dragged to prison as the murderer of the miss- 
ing courier. 

It was well known that the old gentleman in his heart 
detested the foe who had clipped the wings of his trade, 
and diffused inexpressible misery over his country ; but 
that this hatred should be so strong as to incite him to 
murder on the highway, no one could believe. He had 
many enemies in the place ; but no man could suppose 
that their animosity had urged them so far as to fabricate 
this false accusation, either to bring him to an ignominious 
end, or to reduce him to the necessity of purchasing life 
and liberty by an immense sacrifice. The accused him- 
self, when first taken into custody, lost all presence of 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 129 

mind, so that no opinion of his guilt or innocence could 
be formed from his behaviour. How he afterwards ex- 
pressed himself was not known, for he was kept in such 
close confinement that no person whatever was permitted 
to speak to him. 

At this moment of the utmost consternation, } T oung 
Wilmsen conducted himself with such discretion, and 
took so warm an interest in the affair, that Emmeline was 
unable to control her feelings : she had long cherished a 
secret passion for the young man. She was ignorant of 
the real cause of the total revolution which had been ef- 
fected in her father, but she imagined that it was owing 
to the influence which Wilmsen had acquired over him ; 
for when the old man threw out the slightest hint of an in- 
tention to do a good action, Wilmsen hastened with joyful 
zeal to carry it into execution ; and by his talents, his 
usefulness, and his excellent advice, he gained such an 
ascendency over his employer, that the latter, by degrees, 
unconsciously entered into all his views. A thousand 
times had the gentle Emmeline blessed him in her heart 
for his efforts : she had learned to respect and to love him ; 
and her only sorrow arose from the idea that Wilmsen was 
actuated by duty alone, without feeling any real interest 
for her father, or any thing but perfect indifference for 
herself. 

Notwithstanding her modesty, she was sensible that 
she had not her equal for beauty in the city, and that her 
education and accomplishments were of a superior order. 
Hundreds had sued at her feet, and yet this young man 
had remained at the same respectful distance at which 
he had placed himself on the very first day ; not one 
cordial word had ever escaped his lips. Vanity whis- 
pered to her that his looks had frequently betrayed more 



130 GHOST STORIES. 

than the attention of indifference ; but still he had been 
silent. Now, however, circumstances were wholly 
changed. Wilmsen was beside himself at the sudden 
apprehension of her father. He was thoroughly con- 
vinced of the innocence of Mr. Mellinger, and considered 
the whole affair as a diabolical plot to strip him of his 
property, which notwithstanding his recent losses, was 
still very considerable. As soon as he had somewhat 
collected himself, he hastened to Emmeline, to offer her 
every consolation in his power. He pledged himself to 
save her father, cost what it would ; and requested her in 
the mean time to intrust him with the management of 
his business. "Put confidence in me," said he with 
unaffected warmth : " I will justify it by my conduct." 

"Yes, Wilmsen," said the weeping Emmeline, deeply 
affected by the events of the day, " I have confidence in 
you," and unconsciously placed her hand in his. He 
raised it to his lips ; and had not her heart been op- 
pressed with grief and her eyes bedimmed with tears, 
Emmeline must have then read in his looks that rapture 
which pervaded him in spite of his participation in her 
filial sorrows. 

At this moment Stipps arrived with the intelligence 
that Mr. Mellinger's guilt had been discovered by means 
of a child. The old gentleman had been accustomed 
to make little excursions into the country in a single- 
horse chaise, which he drove himself. He was generally 
alone ; but on this occasion he had taken with him a lit- 
tle girl, six years old, the child of one of his clerks, by 
whose prattle he was highly entertained. Her name 
was Charlotte. 

Charlotte, on her return home, related to the child of a 
neighbour that Mr. Mellinger, in driving through the wil- 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 131 

low coppice, near the mill-dam, had discovered at a dis- 
tance a courier coming, all in green; the fellow went so 
swiftly that she had nearly lost sight of him ; but Mr. 
Mellinger leaped out of the chaise just in time to over- 
take him, and that he might not keep him long in misery, 
ran him right through the body. One of the gens-cVarmes, 
who happened just then to be sitting on the step of the door, 
listened with the utmost attention to the child's story, and 
immediately reported the circumstance to his superiors. 

Emmeline hastened to the parents for the purpose oi 
questioning the child herself; but she had been carried 
by the gens-cV armes before the commandant of the place 
to be examined, and no person, not even her mother, had 
been allowed to accompany her. 

She returned home disconsolate, and found Wilmsen 
busily engaged in arranging her father's papers, and in 
removing all the cash and bills of consequence to a place 
of safety. The horrid intelligence was soon brought that 
the very next morning her father was to be tried by a 
military commission. This, as every one knows, was in 
those days equivalent to a death-warrant. 

Immediately after the apprehension of the child, the 
willow coppice mentioned by her had been searched, and 
the lifeless body of the missing courier was actually found 
there, not, indeed, pierced through the heart, but with 
several mortal wounds in the head. 

All the efforts made by the unfortunate Emmeline to 
obtain a sight of her father proved fruitless : neither 
money nor entreaties produced any effect. Honest To- 
bias, who had been in the habit of drinking at the public- 
house with the soldiers and the jailer, used all his influ- 
ence to gain permission to speak with his master 
for a few minutes only in their presence, but in vain. 



132 GHOST STORIES. 

Emmeline returned home broken-hearted. Wilmsen, 
from whom she hoped for counsel and consolation, was 
melancholy and uneasy ; he purposely evaded her ques- 
tions whether he thought it still possible to save her fa- 
ther — whether she should offer half, or even the whole of 
his property to the commandant — whether she should re- 
pair that night to the marshal, who resided not far off, 
throw herself at his feet, and beg her father's life. 

. The terrible night at length came on, and nothing was 
yet done to save the unfortunate, and, in the estimation 
of all, innocent old man from the fate which threatened 
him in the morning. Emmeline sent quite late to Char- 
lotte's parents, who in great trouble returned for answer, 
that the child was detained at the commandant's, and 
this was all they knew about her ; that the mother had 
on her knees implored him to release the child, or allow 
her to remain with the little creature, but he had rejected 
her petition with scorn and laughter. 

The wretched Emmeline passed a restless night. She 
had recourse to prayer; and, strengthened in her confi- 
dence in the Almighty, she fell asleep towards morning ; 
but no sooner had slumber diffused its kindly influence 
over her, than she was awakened by an extraordinary 
bustle in the house. Rosina rushed into her chamber 
with the joyful exclamation : " My master is free ! — he 
has escaped !" 

Emmeline, trembling for joy, lost not a moment in dress- 
ing herself ; the whole house was assembled : Wilmsen, 
too, was awakened from a sound sleep, and he treated the 
whole story as a fable ; but Betty, the jailer's daughter, 
had been herself and communicated the good news to Ro- 
sina from the street, as the latter, unable to sleep, was sit- 
ting at a window. 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 133 

It was not long before a detachment of military marched 
up and surrounded the house. Several officers, with the 
commandant at their head, searched it from top to bottom 
so strictly, that, had Mr. Mellinger been no bigger than a 
mouse, he must have been discovered if he had been in 
it. The disappointed commandant declared, that out of 
many hundred prisoners of this kind not one had ever 
before given him the slip, and that the more he reflected 
upon the matter, the more inexplicable the escape of Mr. 
Mellinger appeared. " I insist on being informed," con- 
tinued he in a firm and authoritative tone, " whether any 
of you knows the Green Mantle of Venice." 

At this unexpected question, Emmeline, Stipps, and 
Rosina, changed colour so visibly, that the lynx-eyed 
commandant, who narrowly watched all present, was sat- 
isfied that he should draw some information from those 
three. He ordered them to remain, and the rest to quit 
the room. He sent Stipps and Rosina, half-frightened to 
death, into separate closets, and requested Emmeline to 
tell him truly all she knew respecting the Green Mantle. 
The trembling girl asked how this mysterous apparition 
could have any thing to do with the liberation of her fa- 
ther. The commandant could not conceal his surprise 
that she, a young lady who was known to be better edu- 
cated than any in the whole city, should speak of the 
Green Mantle as of a supernatural being ; but reminded 
her that it was his province, not hers, to put questions, 
and repeated his request that she would relate what she 
knew on a matter, in which he now began to suspect that 
there was some reality. 

Emmeline, trembling with fear, repeated all that she had 
heard on the subject. The commandant silently shook 
his head ; he looked round significantly at the officers, 
12 



134 GHOST STORIES. 

who were equally astonished ; and allowed Emmeline, so 
overpowei'ed by agitation that she could scarcely support 
herself, to leave the room. 

Stipps was next called in, and his story agreed with 
Emmeline's. The commandant, still more staggered 
than before, desired to see the letters which Mr. Mel- 
linger had received about the time in question from the 
house of Sponseri at Venice. Stipps went, attended by 
one of the officers, to the counting-house, and brought 
the packet, lettered S, containing the mysterious epistle, 
with the contents of which the reader is already acquainted. 
The commandant, with the two superior officers, read the 
letter, and then muttered, " If this is the case, the jailer 
and the guard are not so criminal ; and the devil fetch me 
if I know what I should have done myself in their situ- 
ation." 

Stipps was ordered to point out the spot in the church- 
yard where young Sponseri had been buried. " Should 
you know the body again ?" gravely asked the command- 
ant, who now began to have some misgivings about the 
matter. — M If the face be not very much altered," replied 
Stipps, "I should certainly know it again ;" and his blood 
ran cold at the thought of once more beholding those 
ghastly features, which had already filled him with such 
horror. " Let the grave be opened !" said the command- 
ant to his aid-de-camp : " take this person," pointing to 
Stipps, " along with you, and let him state on oath whether 
it is the corpse of the same person who was buried for 
young Sponseri of Venice. Then send for the jailer 
and the sergeant of the guard, and take down in writing 
what they say when you show them the body. Let the 
jailer bring the button with him." 

Meanwhile Rosina was brought forward, and related 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 135 

what she knew. The statements of all three exactly 
coincided, but none of them had seen the Green Mantle, 
excepting Stipps, when superintending the arrangements 
for the funeral. 

Rosina, when questioned as to her knowledge of the 
apparition, mentioned old Tobias as her informant. In- 
quiry was in consequence made for him, but he was no- 
where to be found. Messengers were despatched to 
every place where he was thought likely to be, but to no 
purpose. " You must produce him," cried the command- 
ant, "should it even cost you the whole of your property. 
As a security, you shall pay down immediately ten thou- 
sand dollars, which shall be forfeited in. four weeks at 
farthest, unless you bring the man forward alive or dead. 
"VVilmsen, with a forced smile, replied, that old Tobias, 
who was unfit for any kind of work, and was chiefly kept 
out of charity, had never yet been valued at so high a 
rate ; and as Mr. Mel linger never suffered the keys of 
the iron chest to go out of his own hands, it was not in 
their power to pay the sum demanded, nor, indeed, could 
they tell whether there was so much money in the house. 

" Here are the keys !" cried the commandant, with an 
air of triumph, holding them up close to the face of Wilm- 
sen, to the no small dismay of the latter ; " it is our cus- 
tom, young man, to search a prisoner, and to take away 
whatever he has about him at the time of his apprehen- 
sion. Come along ! — where is the chest ?" 

At this moment Wilmsen was completely disconcerted, 
and the commandant exuitingly exclaimed : " You thought 
that the commandant was no match for you, I warrant. 
I know you city gentry but too well ; and I will make 
you submissive enough before I have done with you." 
Yielding to necessity, Wilmsen conducted the command- 



136 GHOST STORIES. 

ant and some of his officers to the counting-house, and 
with half-smothered vexation pointed to the iron chest. 
The commandant unlocked it himself, raised the heavy- 
lid, and instantly started back three steps ; for, at the first 
glance that he cast into it, what should meet his greedy 
eyes but — a green mantle ! 

Thrilled with horror, he exclaimed — " Surely this must 
be the work of the devil himself!" and asked Wilmsen 
if he had ever seen the mantle in the chest before. " Mr. 
Mellinger alone kept the key of that chest," replied he, 
" and we clerks never concerned ourselves about what 
our master had in it." — " Take out the accursed mantle," 
cried the commandant, as though he durst not himself 
touch the garment of the spectre. Wilmsen obeyed. 
" What is this ?" asked the commandant, pointing with 
his stick to a paper that fell from the mantle. Wilmsen 
picked it up, and would have read it. " That is not writ- 
ten for you !" cried the commandant, snatching it out of 
his hand. He looked steadfastly at it for some time. 

It was a fragment of written paper. He took another 
piece out of his pocket-book, declaring, with a vulgar 
oath, that both were in the same handwriting, and, on 
fitting the pieces, they were found to correspond so ex- 
actly that there could be no doubt of their belonging to 
one another. A third scrap, however, was wanting to 
complete the whole. 

The commandant was more and more confounded. " It 
seems to be written in Italian," said he ; " does any one 
here understand Italian ?" Wilmsen offered his service, 
when one of the officers answered, that he knew some- 
thing of that language. The commandant handed the 
twc pieces to him. He read as follows : — 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 137 

" conscience; God 



overtakes a fearful end. 

last judgment. Trem- 
ble — eternal night of death." 

"Pooh !" said the commandant, with affected indiffei 
snee ; but at that moment his nether jaw quivered so con 
vulsively, that he could not utter another word. 

" There is something more/' observed the other officer, 
pointing to the back of the paper. His companion turned 
both the pieces ; the back of one was blank, but on that 
of the other, which had fallen from the green mantle, were 
the words : 

" Pallasch and Wollmar " 

" Stop !" cried the commandant to the officer, when he 
heard those two names ; " read that to me only." The 
officer stepped close to him, and read in a low tone as 
follows : — 

" Pallasch and Wollmar are innocent. May the 
judgments of Almighty God overtake him who injures 
a hair of their heads /" 

" Come hither, my friend, and do you translate it," 
said the commandant, almost beside himself, handing the 
paper to Wilmsen. 

Wilmsen rendered it thus : — " Pallasch and Wollmar 
are innocent. May the heaviest judgments of Almighty 
God overtake him who injures a hair of either of their 
heads .'" 

44 Then may the lightnings blast " the rest died 

away on the lips of the commandant. " Look at the 
handwriting." Wilmsen compared it with that on the 
other side, and found both to be the same. In raising 
the two pieces of paper to his face, he turned aside his 
head with an expression of loathing. The commandant 
12* 



138 GHOST STORIES. 

inquired the reason. " They have a cadaverous smell," 
said he, with a countenance indicative of horror and dis- 
gust, " as if they had come out of the hands of a putrid 
corpse." The commandant drew back with a look of 
abhorrence, for he, too, could perceive the earthly sepul- 
chral smell. He now became as mild and flexible as he 
had at first been blustering and peremptory. 

One of the officers reminded him of the object of his 
visit, and of the ten thousand dollars which were to be 
paid down as a pledge for the production of old Tobias. 
"The commandant," cried Wilmsen keenly, "has pos- 
sessed himself of the chest : there can, of course, be no 
farther question about giving, but only about taking. 
What is in the chest I know not ; if it contains so much, 
let him take what his conscience will allow him, recollect- 
ing that God will overtake with his judgments those 
who are guilty of injustice." 

" A fearful end" muttered the commandant, reminded 
by Wilmsen's allusions of the oracular hieroglyphics of 
the Green Mantle — " Last judgment — Tremble — Eter- 
nal night of death. I will not touch a kreutzer in this 
chest ; and I will abate one half of the required sum, feut 
that I must positively have," added he, casting a side 
glance at the two officers, for the sake of the public wel- 
fare." Wilmsen searched the chest, and finding that it 
contained not quite four thousand dollars, offered half the 
amount as a deposit, if the commandant would pledge his 
word and honour that it should be returned as soon as 
Tobias should be delivered up alive, or his death satisfac- 
torily ascertained. The commandant complied, and the 
officers took charge of the two thousand dollars. 

Meanwhile Stipps returned from the church-yard with 
the aid-de-camp, the jailer, and the sergeant of the p-v*^ 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 139 

The aid-de-camp produced the depositions which he had 
taken down. According to these, Stipps had recognised 
the disinterred corpse as that of young Sponseri of Venice ; 
and Pallasch the jailer, and Sergeant Wollmar knew 
him again immediately to be the same person who had 
come the preceding night and released Mr. Mellinger 
from prison. " You seem astonished," said the comman- 
dant to young Wilmsen, who at this declaration could not 
believe his ears. " You will now be able to account for 
my surprise at finding the infernal mantle here in the chest. 
Either God or the devil must have a hand in this business. " 

All present crossed themselves ; and even the two 
officers who were acquainted with the events of the pre- 
ceding night looked aghast. "The green mantle itself," 
continued the aid-de-camp, " I have taken from the 
corpse." At these words, to the horror of the whole 
company, a soldier brought in the half-mouldered garment. 

"The button," proceeded the aid-de-camp, " which the 
apparition last night lost from its mantle, is actually want- 
ing on this mantle taken out of the grave, and is of the 
same pattern as those on the latter." The commandant 
shuddered. The two mantles, on being compared, were 
found to be of the same cloth ; and both had the same 
sort of buttons, and one button was deficient on both. 

" Let us hear no more of this infernal story !" exclaimed 
the commandant : " the more we investigate it, the darker 
is the mystery." " Permit me, however, Sir," said the 
aid-de-camp, by way of concluding his report, " merely 
to submit to you this scrap of paper. In the cufFI found 
a receipt certifying the delivery of a letter. Mr. Stipps 
declared, that, to the best of his judgment, the receipt 
was the handwriting of Mr. Mellinger. la the pocket of 
the mantle was this paper." 



140 



©HOST STORIES,. 



The paper was unfolded ; and who* can describe the 
new astonishment of all on finding that it fitted exactly to 
the two other pieces, one of which had fallen from the 
mantle in the chest, and the other had been dropped by 
the apparition the preceding night I The words had be- 
come very illegible ; but there was no doubt that the 
writing on all three pieces was by the same hand. One 
of the officers and Wilmsen endeavoured to decipher the 
contents, and, after poring over them for some time, made 
out what follows i — 

" O wretch* rouse thy slumbering conscience. God 
will overtake thee in the path of guilt to ivhich I foresee 
a fearful end* Tlie lamentations of those whom thou 
hast rendered miserable shall summon thee to the last 
judgment. Tremble, thou scourge of mankind! the 
sternal night of death is but the first day of the torments 
of helir 

" Who says that ?" cried the commandant while his 
teeth chattered. " The grave/' emphatically replied 
Wilmsen. A long pause ensued. 

" The eternal night of death is but the first day of the 
torments of hell!" slowly repeated the commandant* 
"Terrific idea! When, then, is their night? — when 
their second day ? — when their termination ? Observe 
all of you," added he solemnly, "the most profound silence 
respecting what has occurred here. Time may, perhaps, 
clear up what our limited understandings cannot at pre- 
sent penetrate."" 

With these words he retired, followed by the rest, hav- 
ing previously delivered the keys of the chest to Stipps> 
and ordered one of his people to carry the mantles after 
him. 

As soon as honest Stippa found himself alone wit& 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 141 

Wilmsen, he burst into tears. " O, my friend !" cried 
he, " what a day has this been ! I am overwhelmed with 
horror and anxiety. Where is our old master ?" " Hea- 
ven be his guide !" said Wilmsen, devoutly folding his 
hands across his breast. " I am extremely concerned 
about him." " But who can have saved him?" asked 
Stipps. At this moment, Emmeline entered the room, 
followed by Betty Pallasch, the jailer's daughter. — 
"Now, my girl," said she, "as we cannot be over- 
heard here, tell us three all you know. Tell every thing ; 
speak the truth, and you shall have money or whatever 
you wish for." 

" They may talk as they please ," said the. girl with a 
knowing look, "they will not persuade me that the devil 
had any hand in it I can't help thinking it must 
have been Tobias; for last night, between ten and 
eleven oVlock, he gave the soldiers so much liquor that 
they could hardly stand. He had first poured rum or 
rack, or some devil's drink or other, I forget what he 
called it, into the wine, so that the smell alone was enough 
to make one tipsy. He said, (I mean Tobias,) that they 
should drink his master's health, and have three times as 
much when he was acquitted and set at liberty. The 
men laughed, saying, that as his master would almost to a 
certainty be shot on the morrow, they would rather have 
then what they were to have. Tobias went away cryipg, 
wished me good night, and said : — ' Betty, if that which 
I expect happens, you will never see me again.' I locked 
the door after him, and carried the key to my father ; but 
the conversation between Tobias and the soldiers had 
made me so uneasy that I could not go to bed ; for 
wherever I was, I could not help fancying that I saw 
them shooting the old gentleman, and poor old Tobias 



142 GHOST STORIES. 

wandering aver the wide world. I stayed with my father, 
who was sitting up with the sergeant ; and they talked 
about war, and told stories about murders that made my 
blood run cold. I never was so frightened in my life. 
The sergeant looked around at his men, who were fast 
asleep. My father told me twice to go to bed, but I could 
not for fright. When he ordered me the third time, I 
lay down on the bench and pretended to be asleep. The 
sergeant said he might as well let me lie, since the night 
was so far advanced ; and besides, while I was there, 
they would not be without company. He then clapped 
his ear to the door of the cell in which the old gentleman 
was confined, and knocked softly three times. ' The old 
man must have a good conscience,'' said he, ' for he is fast 
asleep.' 

" Scarcely had he uttered these words, when the clock 
struck twelve; and with the last stroke, a pale, ghastly 
figure, wrapped in a green mantle, came out at the door, 
followed by the old gentleman. Ail three of us started 
up, and I could not help giving a loud shriek. The 
spectre stared at us with his great coal-black eyes, and 
said : — ' I am. the Green Mantle of Venice. My habita- 
tion is the grave. This man is free : whoever touches 
him dies.' With that, both of them walked through our 
Mttle place into the guard-room, where the men were 
asleep, and vanished. 

" ' Father ! what was that ?* cried I, wringing my 
hands between horror, apprehension, and joy. 'Did you 
see his face ? There was not a drop of life-blood in it* 
Oh ! it was Death himself, or a dreadful apparition !' 

" My father was astounded. ' It was a dream, child, a 
fearful dream. It could be nothing else, for the old man 
still lies within there m irons/ 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 143 

"With a trembling hand he took up the lamp, and 
went into the cell. The fetters lay upon the pavement. 
The cell was empty ! ' We are undone,' exclaimed the 
sergeant; 'this must have been the devil himself. It 
was some hellish contrivance. Holla, guards ! To arms ! 
Good heaven, has Beelzebub stopped your ears also by 
some diabolical enchantment V 

" The men heard not a syllable of what he said ; and 
it w T as at least a quarter of an hour before they could be 
brought, by dint of buffetings and shakings, to stand upon 
their legs. The house was searched with all speed, 
every corner from the garret to the cellar ; but no trace 
either of the ghost or of his companion could anywhere 
be found. 

" At last, it became necessary for the sergeant to ac- 
quaint the commandant. 'If the commandant hears,' 
said the sergeant to the soldiers, who had scarcely reco- 
vered from their intoxication, ' that you were drunk, every 
man of you will be shot. I cannot help thinking that 
the profound sleep into which you fell was a freak of the 
cursed Green Mantle of Venice. You have toped freely 
before now, my brave fellows, yet were always found at 
your posts, and never were known to neglect your duty.' 

"The men were glad that the sergeant himself had 
helped them to an excuse ; and they all protested that 
they had never been so bewitched before ; they could 
hardly then see out of their eyes, so confused were their 
heads. One of them undertook to swear a thousand oaths, 
that he had seen the Green Mantle, with the prisoner, 
pass through the guard-room. He would have called to 
the others, but he found' himself incapable of moving a 
limb, or uttering a word. Some invisible power compelled 
him to be silent. 



144 GHOST STORIES, 

" The sergeant made his report of all this to the com- 
mandant. The latter had yesterday been at a splendid 
entertainment, and, as the servants said, returned home 
in his cups, and was not to be roused. 

" Two hours elapsed before the whole of the guards on 
duty at the prison were relieved. The sentry at the door 
had disappeared. 

" The sergeant, my father, myself, and all the soldiers, 
were arrested and carried before the commandant. He 
examined us himself. We were put upon our corporal 
oath as to what we had heard and seen. The soldiers to 
a man swore, that with open eyes they had seen the 
Green Mantle pass through with the prisoner, and that 
they would have stopped — have shot him ; but they were 
not able to move a finger, and when they attempted to 
call out, their voices stuck in their throats ; that the Green 
Mantle had a huge cloven foot, and a long flaming tail ; that 
the door opened before him without his touching it, and 
when he was gone, he left behind him a strong smell of 
brimstone. 

44 1 knew very well that this was not all true, and that 
they had perjured themselves ; but, as I saw that the 
commandant began to be puzzled, and to consider my fa- 
ther less guilty, I let them swear what they liked, and 
sell their souls to the devil ; for you know, he who takes a 
false oath is sure to go to hell. But the scoundrels deserve 
no better. I must, however, except Wollmar, who is a 
nice honest young man, of whom nobody can speak ill. 
When they brought in the green mantle that had been 
found at the door of the house, the commandant and all 
the officers turned away in disgust, for it smelt putrid — 
like corrupted flesh. It almost fell to pieces with rotten- 
ness. One of the buttons rolled towards the feet of the 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 145 

commandant ; and the sergeant found in the pocket a torn 
piece of paper, the writing on which could hardly be 
read. The rest were detained ; but I was set at liberty, 
and hastened to Rosina, to give her the earliest intelli- 
gence of the escape of her master. The commandant is 
now in consultation with the rest of his officers. 

" Little Charlotte has been examined again; and she 
has been discharged, with a threat that she shall be in- 
stantly shot if she says a word about the questions put to 
her, or her answers. The child is now as mute as a fish 
regarding the whole affair. 

" The commandant is quite puzzled what to make of 
the story of the Green Mantle ; and they say, that there 
is something on the scrap of paper which has made him 
very uneasy. 

" Search is making everywhere for old Tobias. The 
wine he gave to the soldiers has been examined, and 
poison has been found in it." 

"Only opium, perhaps," interrupted Wilmsen. 

" Yes, that is what they call the stuff," continued Bet- 
ty. " The soldiers are lying there yet, at full length. 
They are too ill to stand, and I verily believe they will not 
outlive this evening. But that is of no consequence — they 
have not an honest hair on their heads, and every man of 
them belongs to the devil after what they swore this morn- 
ing. I am only anxious for poor Tobias : if they catch 
him, they will certainly shoot him without ceremony." 

Emmeline liberally rewarded the girl ; and when she 
was gone, all three wearied themselves with conjectures 
respecting the Green Mantle of Venice. At last, old 
Stipps observed, "Let us drop the subject. Mr. Mel 
linger is free and safe: the rest we must leave to hea- 
ven." 

13 



146 GHOST STORIES. 

Wilmsen passed his hand over his brow anxiously, and 
said, in a low tone : — " While we have no intelligence re- 
specting him, I shall not be easy." 

" Do not leave me," said Emmeline mournfully, extend- 
ing her hands to both of them ; " God has afflicted me 
heavily, and I have need of such friends." 

Each raised one to his lips : Wilmsen felt the pressure 
of her soft delicate hand, and his delighted lips reposed 
upon it for a second. The thought rushed through his 
soul, that the pressure proceeded only from the sense of 
her forlorn situation. He suddenly released her hand, 
and immediately resumed in his deportment the respect- 
ful distance of an inferior. Emmeline looked at him in 
silence, shook her head, unobserved by him, and without 
another word, left the room in deep despondence. 

In her now unprotected situation, Emmeline invited 
one of her aunts to come and live with her. Old Stipps 
was appointed cashier, and Wilmsen superintended the 
correspondence. 

Thus matters were regulated in the house ; in poor 
Emmeline's heart, however, no such order prevailed. 
Every day she learned to love the handsome young Wilm- 
sen more and more. 

Little Charlotte, as we have seen, had been set at lib- 
erty. Her parents had taken her, the same morning 
that she returned from the commandant, to a relation in 
the country, probably that she might escape the pressing 
interrogatories of the curious. At the end of a week 
the little girl came back. Emmeline sought an opportu- 
nity of speaking to her alone, to learn further particulars 
regarding the murder of the courier by her father's hand. 
The child who had been so full of prattle during her 
walks with Mr. Mellinger, was now silent as the grave. 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 147 

The terror of what she had gone through had mads a 
deep impression upon the child. 

" The commandant will have me shot," said she, lay 
ing both her hands on her anxious breast ; " I dare not 
speak a word about it. My father tells me, that the sol- 
diers will not always stay here, and when they are gone, 
I will let you know every thing." 

" At least tell me, my dear," said Emmeline, and pressed 
the poor girl to her heart, "and I swear by Heaven and 
my hope of salvation to be silent — tell me whether my 
father did really stab the courier ?" 

" Yes," answered Charlotte, shaking her head ; " he 
did stab the courier, he did indeed ; but still he is no 
murderer." 

On the same day the corpse of a drowned man was 
found in the river. The officer whose duty it was to in- 
spect it was convinced that it was the body of old To- 
bias ; and several of the by-standers coincided in this 
opinion. Young Wilmsen was sent for, that he might 
give his evidence on the subject. It was really old To- 
bias. The corpse, being already in a putrid state, was 
immediately buried. The depositions were laid before 
the commandant, as was usual in such cases. 

Next morning Wilmsen put in his claim for the two 
thousand dollars deposited in the hands of the command- 
ant, and reminded him of his written undertaking to re- 
turn this sum as soon as the death of Tobias had been sat- 
isfactorily ascertained. The commandant stormed. " The 
depositions are false," he cried ; " you are all a pack of 
rascals, who are sure to be in one story !" 

" The depositions are all regular and authentic, Sir," 
answered Wilmsen, firmly but respectfully ; " and you 
are not the commandant of a pack of rascals, but of a 



148 GHOST STORIES. 

place whose inhabitants have a reputation of being the 
most upright citizens of the empire." 

" Pray who has recognised the body of the drowned 
man as that of your Tobias ?" continued the commandant. 
" You. — Who has the greatest interest in establishing 
that point ? You. — I shall not refund the two thousand 
dollars, be assured of that. Besides, I have not the 
money ; the two officers who were with me had their 
share of it." 

u That," rejoined young Wilmsen, "I have too high 
an opinion of your honour to believe. It was a deposit 
which was to remain untouched, and not a present. If 
you have suffered others to take any part of it, you are 
still answerable for the whole ; and if you do not believe 
the evidence of the officer who inspected the corpse, and 
my deposition, let the body be taken up again, and thou- 
sands who knew old Tobias will confirm what I have as- 
serted." 

" What, take up the body again !" exclaimed the com- 
mandant. " Shall the grave be disturbed a second time 
for the sake of your house ? Would to God that I never 
had any thing to do with you !" 

" But restore the two thousand dollars," said Wilmsen, 
returning to the matter in dispute. 

" The grave shall give it up first !" peevishly answered 
the commandant, and ordered Wilmsen to be gone. 

In a few hours the horrible work was begun ; hundreds 
of people who had known the old man were attracted to 
the spot, some from motives of curiosity, others beeause 
they were summoned. Every one agreed that it Avas cer- 
tainly old Tobias ; the dress alone was not like that which 
he usually wore. On a more particular inspection by 
the surgeon, a deep gash was discovered in the throat of 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 149 

the corpse. Everybody shuddered at the sight. Tobias 
had been a worthy old man, beloved and esteemed by 
every one who knew him, and nothing but the deepest 
despair could have driven him to suicide. 

" This is another victim whose blood will lie heavy on the 
soul of the commandant," murmured the crowd. These 
words found their way to his ears, together with the rest 
of the evidence, through the officers who attended on his 
behalf. Enraged at the necessity, as he feared, of re- 
funding the two thousand dollars, he exclaimed: "Let 
the fellow be buried in a cross-road !" This, however, 
he could not carry into effect: the people opposed it 
loudly. Tobias, they said, was a man of a quiet and re- 
ligious turn of mind, and very unlikely to commit suicide. 
The wound might have been inflicted by other hands, as 
such deeds were by no means of rare occurrence in those 
times. The commandant could not persist against the 
general voice of the people, who demanded an honourable 
grave for the deceased, and at length he silently acqui- 
esced. 

Wilmsen wrote again to demand the restoration of the 
two thousand dollars. The commandant answered that 
he would confer alone with Emmeline, the mistress of 
the house, on this subject. He came accordingly, and 
artfully endeavoured to induce her to resign her claim ; but 
she referred him to Wilmsen, in whose hands was the 
entire management of her affairs, and who would settle 
the matter in a legal way. 

The commandant turned the conversation to different 
subjects ; and was on the point of taking leave, when 
Emmeline's servant entered with a letter, which had 
been delivered by a little boy who was an utter stranger. 

Emmeline apologized to the commandant ; and, opening 

10 * 



150 GHOST STORIES. 

the letter, changed colour, laughed and cried, trembled, 
sobbed, and at length so far forgot herself, as to exclaim 
joyfully, folding her hands on her breast in prayer, " He 
lives !" 

The commandant, who had anxiously observed he* 
emotion, asked, with an air of interest, who it could be 
whose life appeared to be of so much importance to her ; 
at the same moment, a small billet fell from Emmeline's 
hand ; he took it up, and with a soldier-like blunt- 
ness proceeded to read these words : " I live ! I am 
free and happy, and I soon hope to see my beloved 
daughter." 

" From your father !" cried he, in astonishment. " You 
declared from the first that you knew not where he was ; 
that you had never heard from him since his escape ; 
and I confess to you I did not believe it. I perceive now 
that you spoke the truth : but where is he ? There is 
another slip of paper in the envelope ; perhaps it gives 
some farther explanation." 

Emmeline drew forth the slip, which she now first 
observed, ran hastily over it, and with evident embarrass- 
ment folded it up again. 

"Well?" asked the commandant impatiently. 

"Excuse me, Sir," said Emmeline, gravely rising to 
leave the room ; "these very extraordinary lines do not 
appear to be intended for any eye but my own." 

44 1 desire, however, to see these very extraordinary 
lines" said he, in a determined tone. 44 Your father has 
withdrawn himself from the hands of justice. The man- 
ner of his escape, his present abode " 

44 The billet contains no clue to this," answered Em- 
meline, trembling. 

44 1 will read it, however ; I must read it. It is the 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 151 

commandant who addresses you. I order you to give it 
to me, or I must employ force." 

Pale and trembling, Emmeline complied. The com- 
mandant had scarcely cast a glance over it, when he ex- 
claimed, " The devil ! this is from the Green Mantle of 
Venice ; the handwriting is the same as that on the 
three cursed pieces of paper found in the three mantles." 

He read it first aloud, then to himself; threw it on the 
floor with a vehement oath, stamped, gnashed his teeth 
with rage, and hastened out of the room, banging the 
door after him with a violence that shook the whole 
building. 

It was some time before Emmeline recovered from the 
agitation into which she was thrown by this scene. She 
had merely run her eye over the billet ; but she had seen 
enough to convince her that the lines bore some allusion 
to the commandant himself, and hence her objection to 
show them to him: at length, recollecting herself, she 
took them up from the ground, and read these words : 

" Your father is in safety : as a proof of it, I send you 
the enclosed lines written by his own hand. He is inno- 
cent of the crime imputed to him. The whole results 
from the stupidity and wickedness of the wretch who 
imprisoned him, and whom I will in time overtake with 
my vengeance. He fears the spirits of the other world ; 
he shall learn to tremble at them. I am acquainted with 
his villanies ; and when I am again permitted to leave 
my dark abode, a fearful chastisement shall overtake 

h im - " The Green Mantle of Venice." 

In about an hour the commandant sent to Emmeline, 
requesting her to transmit to him the mysterious billet 
under seal. He cut off the beginning, as far as the words 



152 GHOST STORIES. 

which more immediately related to himself, and sent it 
by a courier to Venice, addressed to the house of Sponseri, 
desiring to be informed whether they knew the hand- 
writing, and whose it was. In as short a time as possible 
an answer arrived from old Sponseri, stating that the en- 
closure w r as undoubtedly the handwriting of his deceased 
son Guilielmo, but that he was unable to tell at what time 
or on what occasion it could have been written. 

The commandant began to look within. He found 
himself unable to account in any way for what had 
passed, without at length admitting the belief of the 
supernatural interference of the Green Mantle of Venice. 
Impressed with the idea that he should, either before or 
.after death, be punished by this terrible being, he resolved 
immediately to set about making all the reparation in his 
power for his misdeeds. His first act was to refund the 
tw r o thousand dollars, without farther importunity ; and 
from this time he became so condescending, so accommo- 
dating, and so forbearing in the exercise of his duty, that 
nobody in the town could comprehend the meaning of 
this sudden change. 

Most people attributed it to the altered state of political 
affairs. The situation of the French army occupying the 
south of Germany became at this time very precarious, 
in consequence of the turn which matters had taken in 
the north. The appeal of the King of Prussia to the 
warlike youth of his dominions sounded throughout the 
whole of Germany, and awakened the fire of patriotism in 
many a heart. The noblest youths flocked to Breslau to 
fight under Prussian colours, impatient to take an active 
part in the contest which was to give freedom and tranquil- 
lity to Europe. Every day brought the most encouraging 
accounts of the zeal and activity displayed in every quarter. 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 153 

"I must hence," said Wilmsen, one evening, in a con- 
vivial circle of his young friends ; " and let those whose 
hearts lie in the right place, and who love their country, 
follow me," They unanimously rose, and pledged them- 
selves by hand and word to accompany him to Breslau, 
and there to enrol themselves among the Prussian volun- 
teers. The health of the King was deeply pledged in 
Rhenish by the new comrades ; the time and place of 
meeting were arranged, that they might set out together 
on their journey into Silesia, and the strictest secrecy 
with regard to their movements was enjoined. When 
the party was about to break up, Stark, the most senti- 
mental of their number, stepped into the midst of them, and 
raising his glass, drank — " Fidelity in those we love, a 
modest parting kiss, and a happy re-union !" Every one 
drank a bumper, amidst loud cheers, to the health of their 
heroines, and Wilmsen, deeply affected, pressed the hand 
of the young enthusiast. 

Stipps was ready to drop with astonishment and terror 
when Wilmsen communicated to him his resolution, under 
an injunction of secrecy. "Mr. Wilmsen," said he, lay- 
ing both his hands on the shoulders of the young man, 
" what an unfortunate step you have taken ! War and 
commerce have nothing to do with each other, and never 
will have ; a merchant can never make a soldier. If you 
wish to do something for the general cause, let it be with 
money, but save your blood and your limbs. When you 
are on the road to happiness and fortune, do not go and 
wantonly throw away your life." 

" To fortune !" said Wilmsen, doubtfully. 

" You cannot miss it," answered Stipps, familiarly. 
" 1 have hitherto been silent on this subject, because it 
did not become me to speak first, but I can now refrain 



154 GHOST STORIES. 

no longer. Our Emmeline — why do you colour so, Mr. 
Wilmsen ? there is nothing to blush for- — she has still, not- 
withstanding the losses our house has experienced, her 
good half million ! And what a girl ! — do you know an- 
other half so beautiful or half so good, in the whole city ?" 

"Leave off jesting," said Wilmsen, "we have more 
serious matters to talk about. The rich heiress of half a 
million is destined for something higher ; and, even if I 
had been dazzled by her charms, I have sense enough to 
be aware, Mr. Stipps, that she would have looked upon 
any proposal from a poor fellow like me as absolute mad- 
ness." 

" By Heaven, you are mistaken !" cried Stipps, grow- 
ing half angry: "I would wager all I am worth in the 
world that she would not say No. I have heard too much 
from the old lady her aunt ; I have seen too much of her 
behaviour towards you, to have the least doubt of it." 

The simplicity of Stipps prevented his perceiving the 
treachery he was guilty of to Emmeline, or the impres- 
sion which his words made upon Wilmsen. The latter 
concealed within his own bosom the pleasing emotions 
which they excited, and merely said : " The plan I have 
engaged in must be executed immediately, or we may be 
betrayed. I set out this evening with my friends. I 
shall give up my accounts into your hands. Will you 
acquaint Emmeline of my intention ? Not a word to any 
one besides." 

Stipps muttered and shook his head, and Wilmsen left 
him. 

When Wilmsen returned, Emmeline desired to speak 
to him. He saw plainly that she had been weeping : 
this confirmation of what Stipps had asserted was wel- 
come to his heart. She gave him her hand, saying, in a 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 155 

mournful tone of voice : " You are going to leave us, 
then, dear Wilmsen ! I thought that, for the sake of our 
house, you would have stayed with us ; but still I honour 
your resolution : our private advantage ought not to be 
put in competition with the public welfare. It is a fear- 
ful time ; thousands" — she continued, while her eyes 
rilled with tears — "thousands must be sacrificed ere the 
crisis is past. You go," she added more firmly, after a 
short pause, "to offer yourself upon the- altar of patriot- 
ism and loyalty— on this holy altar offer likewise what I 
have to give." She delivered to him all her jewels and 
ornaments, and a considerable sum in gold. " I cannot, 
like you. offer my blood and my life at the shrine ; but 
when wives and daughters assemble in the churches to 
offer up their prayers for the safety of those they love" — 
she stopped, overcome by her feelings. Wilmsen seized 
her hand, and pressing it to his lips, cried, ** Yes, dearest, 
heavenly girl, pray for me, and God will be with me. 
This moment, Emmeline" — he never before thus fami- 
liarly addressed her — " this moment repays me for all I 
have hitherto suffered in this house. A few hours only 
now are mine. My situation here is changed : I no longer 
see in you the respected daughter of my patron — Emmeline, 
my Emmeline is before me. From the moment — I may now 
at least speak freely — from the moment when I knelt near 
you at the altar, every feeling has been devoted to you. 
The consciousness of my inferiority of station, of my 
poverty, added to the coldness and occasional haughtiness 
of your manner towards me, has hitherto repressed every 
hope which my vanity might at other times have sug- 
gested. But now, in these few last moments, I am richly 
recompensed by these tears for all that love and duty 
have imposed upon me." 



156 GHOST STORIES. 

" The coldness and haughtiness of my manner !" repeat- 
ed Emmeline, shaking her head and smiling through her 
tears : " My dear friend, how little you know of the fe- 
male heart ! Perhaps we see each other now for the last 
time ; let there be no longer any mystery between us. The 
coldness of which you complain was occasioned only by 
the caution I was compelled to observe towards all your 
sex, in consequence of the fortune I was known to pos- 
sess, the various suits to which I must be exposed, and 
the secluded nature of my education. If I had been 
poor, the sincerity of my attachment would have been 
obvious ; but being rich, I was obliged to be reserved. 
Towards you I had also other reasons for it." 

She ceased and laid her hand.upon her heart : Wilm- 
sen placed it upon his. " Other reasons !" cried he ; 
" you have promised that there shall be no concealment 
now." 

" Your excessive diffidence made you blind, or you 
would not ask for other reasons. You might have found 
them," added she, casting down her eyes, "in yourself." 

" Oh, Emmeline !" cried Wilmsen, pressing her to his 
breast, " speak the delightful word. Tell me what you 
mean." 

"Wilmsen," she answered trembling, and in a low 
voice, " it was your part first to tell me that you loved 
me." 

" My own Emmeline !" cried Wilmsen, overcome with 
joy ; and a kiss sealed the union of the happy pair. 

The lovers had a thousand things to tell each other : 
Wilmsen, hitherto so distant, was all cordiality and affec- 
tion, and developed the amiable and, till now, unknown 
qualities of his glowing heart in a thousand ways. A 
cloud, however, all at once overcast his soul ; Emmeline 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 157 

perceived the change, and anxiously inquired the cause. 
" Your father," replied Wilmsen, dubiously, " will he 
approve our love ?" " His only wish," rejoined Emme- 
line, with a sweet smile, " is for the happiness of his 
child, and without you I shall never find it in this world. 
He is acquainted with my sentiments, and he approves 
them. A few days before the unfortunate affair of the 
courier, Count Bliitenstein called on my father, and soli- 
cited my hand for his son, the Chamberlain. My father's 
vanity seemed flattered by the proposal ; he painted the 
young gentleman's good qualities in the most glowing 
colours ; adding, that he should be gratified if this match 
accorded with my wishes, as he trusted it would, since I 
could not have any reasonable objection to the young 
Count, on the score of his talents, person and accomplish- 
ments. My answer, that I had no dislike to the Count, 
but that I never could love him, made my father a little 
angry. — ■ You love nobody,' said he peevishly ; and was 
going to leave the room, when I mustered courage and 
confessed my attachment to you. He was staggered at 
first, but afterwards observed that he thought he had seve- 
ral times perceived in me a partiality to you. Though 
you were poor, yet — but why should I repeat to your face 
all his warm commendations of your integrity, your talents 
and usefulness ? In short he declared that, if I loved 
you so sincerely as to prefer you to the young Count, and 
you entertained similar sentiments in regard to me, he 
would cheerfully consent to our union." 

At this explanation Wilmsen's fears were dispelled, 
and gave place to the most ardent joy. 

Thus passed one of the happiest hours of their lives. 
It was, perhaps, the last they should spend together. 
Both avoided the subject of parting. " You were talk- 
14 



158 GHOST STORIES. 

ing this morning," at length said Emmeline, "about go- 
ing to Breslau : " you have given up that idea now, I 
hope ?" "Emmeline," replied Wilmsen, "rend not my 
heart with that question ! I must go. I gave my word 
of honour, when life was of no value to me, because at 
that time I doubted your love ; now, that I am just begin- 
ning to live, I am compelled to keep it." He explained 
to her so forcibly that honour and duty alike forbade him 
to desert the comrades whom he had himself enlisted in 
the cause, warmly assuring her at the same time it would 
now be much more agreeable to him to stay than to go, 
that Emmeline suddenly rose, and fell about his neck. 
"No," said she, tenderly, " go ; I am sensible that you 
cannot, must not be left behind. A thousand mothers, 
sisters, wives and brides will have to endure the same 
triai as I shall. My prayers shall attend you : I shall be 
ever with you !" 

The moment of departure arrived. Wilmsen had fixed 
upon an inn about twelve miles from the city as the place 
of rendezvous for his young friends, who were to meet 
there at four in the afternoon. To this inn Emmeline, 
accompanied by her aunt, to whom she had in a few 
words explained the footing on which she now stood with 
Wilmsen, attended her lover. Here carriages and horses 
were in readiness to convey the volunteers with all pos- 
sible despatch beyond the frontiers ; for on account of 
the daily departure of youths who travelled northward 
to join the Prussian armies, the commandant began to 
keep a very watchful eye on the young people of the 
place. 

At the inn sixteen high-spirited companions were wait- 
ing for Wilmsen, who was received by them with loud 
huzzas. They urged the utmost despatch, lest they should 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 159 

be overtaken and detained by the commandant. The 
moment of separation soon arrived. Friends of both 
sexes had accompanied most of the young adventurers 
from the city. The scene was deeply affecting. Wilm- 
sen and Emmeline mutually vowed unchangeable affec- 
tion: she was ready to faint, as he pressed her for the 
last time to her bosom ; when Wilmsen, intoxicated with 
the happiness of finding himself so tenderly loved by 
her, confided to her ear the secret which had lain so long 
buried in his faithful heart. " Emmeline, " whispered 
he : "I am not Wilmsen — I am Guilielmo Sponseri, the 
Green Mantle of Venice." 

At this moment there was a general cry of — " The 
gens d'armes are coming I" All eyes were instantly 
turned towards the city, and they actually beheld at a 
distance a detachment of those banditti approaching. 
The young volunteers jumped into the carriages that 
were waiting for them : Stark tore Wilmsen from the 
arms of Emmeline, who was agitated almost to frenzy by 
the parting disclosure ; and forcing him into a post-chaise, 
away they drove, with such a speed as to be soon safe 
from the pursuit of the gens d'armes, whose horses were 
too much jaded to proceed. 

Emmeline lay in a deep swoon. The horrid execra- 
tions of the military, on account of their disappointment, 
recalled her to life, and to a sense of her forlorn situation. 
"Guilielmo Sponseri!" she repeatedly exclaimed, as 
though awaking from a frightful dream, and shuddering 
at the idea of having beheld that mysterious being 
returned from the grave : but the recollection of his warm 
lips, his sparkling eyes, his fervent embrace, soon stifled 
her rising horror, and convinced her that her young 
and handsome lover could not be the same being who 



160 GHOST STORIES. 

was so unaccountably implicated in the history of her 
house. 

On her return home the whole town was filled with 
rejoicing. Orders had been received an hour before that 
all the military quartered there should break up the next 
morning, and proceed by forced marches to the north, 
where the warlike preparations of the Russians and Prus- 
sians gave reason to apprehend the speedy commence- 
ment of hostilities. The commandant himself packed up 
his baggage : and, by the dawn of the following day, the 
whole city was cleared of its uninvited guests. Emme- 
line sorrowfully beheld them pass, for her fears represent- 
ed to her that all those thousands of murderous weapons 
were about to be pointed at the heart of her Guilielmo. 
She could not recover her composure the whole day. In 
the evening, fatigued with weeping and with the vagaries 
of her powerfully excited imagination, she was sitting 
alone at dusk, thinking of her absent lover, when some 
one gently rapped at the door, and in walked old Tobias. 

Emmeline started from her seat with horror and aston- 
ishment. Tobias — who had been found with his throat 
cut — who had been dragged half putrified from the water 
— who had been recognised by so many — and who had 
then been consigned to the grave — Tobias now stood 
neatly and sprucely dressed before her, and said with his 
usual simper : " Don't be frightened Miss Emmeline, it is 
only I." 

" Good heaven ! how is that possible ?" exclaimed 
Emmeline, who durst not believe her senses. Tobias 
then briefly related his adventures. 

On that dreadful day when Emmeline's father was 
taken into custody, Wilmsen had thus addressed him : — 
" Your master is accused of murder ; to-morrow he is to 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 161 

be tried by a military commission — or in other words, to- 
morrow he will be shot. You are a worthy soul, and we 
all rely upon you. The * * * * have the watch ; you are 
acquainted with these men ; give them this wine as if from 
your master. Be sure not to taste it yourself, and leave 
them by eleven o'clock. It will not kill any of the ras- 
cals, but it may throw them into a pretty long nap. When 
your master sees that the guard is asleep he will probably 
avail himself of the opportunity to attempt his escape ; 
and, if he succeeds, depend upon it you shall be hand- 
somely rewarded. You must not go home to-night ; but 
to the house of the executioner, and there wait till I bring 
you farther instructions." 

Rebecca, the executioner's daughter, must have been 
previously apprised of the coming of old Tobias, for 
she sat up for him, and leading him softly to an out- 
building in the rear of the house, and silencing the dogs 
kept in it, she made him up a couch of horse and cow 
hides. 

"In the morning," continued old Tobias, "the gens 
d'armes arrived, and asked Rebecca, who was at the 
window, whether she had seen any thing of Mr. Mellinger, 
who had escaped in the night, and, as they were told, had 
taken this way. Rebecca declared that she had seen no 
person, for she was but just up. i The fellow may never- 
theless be here at last,' said one of the soldiers dismounting. 
■ Open the door,' cried another, ' we must have a search.' 
As I could hear all that passed, I trembled in every limb ; 
for if the scoundrels had found me in my hiding-place, it 
would have been all over with poor Tobias. 

"Rebecca immediately shut the window, and opening 
the house-door, out bounced at least a score of tremendous 
big dogs, barking most furiously. The man who had 
14* 



162 GHOST STORIES. 

dismounted was on his horse again in a trice. * Call off* 
the dogs,' cried his companions ; ' the savage brutes bite 
like devils.' 'They don't mind me,' replied Rebecca, 
4 and there is nobody else in the house.' At that moment 
a dog seized one of the gens d'armes by the leg. He 
was preparing to fire at the animal, ' Fire away,' cried 
Rebecca, pointedly ; * the dogs belong to our prince : we 
are obliged to send them twice a week to your Marshal 
to hunt with. You will get yourselves into a fine scrape 
with him ; for he is much fonder of the dogs, than of 
you.' * Sacre nom de BieuT cried the fellows; and 
away they gallopped, boiling with rage, and pursued to 
a considerable distance by the dogs, while Rebecca stood 
laughing and clapping her hands. She declared that 
if she had but set them on, the creatures would have torn 
every man of them to pieces. 

" In about a fortnight Rebecca one night called me up, 
and told me that I was to get into a carriage at the door, in 
which I found a gentleman who did not speak a word. 
Next morning, when it grew light, I perceived that it 
was Mr. Wachokovich, the wine-merchant at the corner 
of our street. We travelled with the utmost speed to 
Hermanstadt, in Transylvania, where he had business 
to transact, and there I lived under another name at 
the House of his parents. He told me that search was 
making for me, as I was charged with having given 
poison to the soldiers, and that while the enemy was in 
the country it would not be safe to return. Three weeks 
since, Mr. Wachokovich, senior, was about to set ofT for 
this city : I could not stay any longer, and begged that he 
would take me with him. Before we arrived I heard 
that the commandant was still here ; I therefore stopped 
at Rebecca's, and through her acquainted Mr. Wilmsen 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 163 

with my return. The girl was frightened when she first 
saw me. She insisted that I had drowned myself in the 
river, and that my body had been found and buried. Mr. 
Wilmsen, who came this afternoon to see me, solved the 
mystery. Merely with a view to recover the two thou- 
sand dollars which he had been obliged to deposit with 
the commandant on my account, he had confirmed the 
notion that I was the drowned man ; man}^ who knew 
better, to oblige him and to trick the commandant, coin- 
cided in the story, and so Mr. Wilmsen saved his money, 
and secured me from the farther pursuit of the gens 
cV amies" 

"And where is my father ?" eagerly asked Emmeline, 
who had listened to this story with the most intense in- 
terest. 

"I know not a word about him," rejoined Tobias with 
a look of concern. " He certainly went through the yard 
behind the executioner's house, for Rebecca saw him ; 
but whither, God above knows." 

The entrance of the parents of little Charlotte inter- 
rupted this conversation. The child had hitherto observed 
the strictest silence in regard to the murder of the courier. 
Her father and mother had often tried by persuasions, 
entreaties, and threats, to induce her to relate the circum- 
stances, but her constant reply was : " If I do, I shall be 
shot." Now that the commandant and his troops had 
marched away, and everybody assured her that the crew 
would never return, she felt herself at liberty, and gave 
a circumstantial account of the whole affair. They there- 
fore lost no time in acquainting Emmeline with everv 
particular connected with the tragic story. 

Mr. Mellinger was driving through the wood, when 
the child perceived a beetle, of the species called by 



164 GHOST STORIES. 

naturalists scarabxus sabulosus,* and as it was very 
beautiful, she wished to have it. The old gentleman 
made her hold the reins while he alighted, and, having 
caught the insect, ran a pin through its body and fastened 
it to the elbow of the chaise. Such was the whole story 
of the atrocious murder. 

The commandant would most likely have released Mr. 
Mellinger the next morning, had he not escaped in the 
night. He was probably apprehensive of incurring a 
severe reprimand from his superiors, and the ridicule of 
the public, on account of the blunder which he had com- 
mitted ; and it was for this reason that he had threatened 
the child with death if she uttered a syllable concerning the 
affair. The story soon spread throughout the city and the 
adjacent country, and there was not a soul but heartily re> 
joiced in this confirmation ofthe innocence of Mr. Mellingerr 

Emmeline now thought of acquainting her father, 
through the medium of the public papers, that he might 
return without danger, when he spared her the trouble, 
and arrived one evening safe and sound, to the great joy 
of his daughter and his whole house. After his escape 
he had first proceeded to Raab in Hungary, and thence 
to Smyrna, where he lived in perfect security under a 
fictitious name. On the subject of his escape, or the in- 
terference of the Green Mantle, of which no secret was 
made by the loquacious jailer and his daughter, Mr. 
Mellinger would not say a word. " Think no more of 

* This is a well-known species with elytra. It is green on 
the back, and each of the elytra has five white spots. The 
lower part of the body, the legs, and the antennae, are copper- 
coloured, with a bluish tinge. It is found on sandy soils, is 
7ery swift, and is thence vulgarly called, in Germany, the 
Courier. 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 165 

that," said he abruptly ; " time, it is to be hoped, will 
clear up the mystery. There are many things in the 
world which seem to border on the supernatural, but 
which are as simple in reality as the affair of thu courier." 

He deeply regretted the departure of Wilmsen, espe- 
cially since every one spoke of him in the highest terms. 
Emmeline longed to be alone with her father, that she 
might acquaint him with her wishes and the secret of her 
love. At length, late in the evening, an opportunity 
occurred. Her father had, during his absence, lost much 
of his calculating habits ; he was all kindness and affec- 
tion. In a transport of joy at finding his affairs in the 
most prosperous train, and his only child blooming in 
health and rich in charms and virtues, he pressed her to 
his enraptured heart. "My poor girl," said he, " you 
have gone through a great deal here, but God has pro- 
tected you. When far away, you were daily present to 
my thoughts, and the daily subject of my prayers. I 
have learned that wealth is perishable, and that man is a 
miserable being, when he has none about him that he 
loves ; and therefore, in the hours of dreary solitude, I 
have often vowed to reward the filial tenderness with 
which you soothe my old age by the gratification of your 
wishes to the utmost in my power. Tell me, my dear, 
how can I contribute to your happiness ?" 

Thus encouraged, Emmeline revealed the secrets of 
her heart, reserving only the parting words of Guilielmo. 
Her father again clasped her in his arms. " Wilmsen is 
poor," replied he in a kind tone ; " but he is a clever, 
industrious, and worthy young man. You love him. If 
God preserves his life amidst the dangers of his new career, 
and he remains faithful to you, I will bless your union." 



166 GHOST STORIES. 

I became acquainted with Guilielmo at Breslau. After 
the battle of Culm, I met him again among the wounded 
in the hospital at Toplitz. He had been shot through 
the left foot, and was lying, with many more of my friends, 
on straw. He recollected me the moment I entered, 
and called me to his side. He was extremely pale, and 
his dark eyes appeared more brilliant than ever. Over 
him was accidentally spread a green mantle, lent to him 
by an officer of a rifle regiment. I expressed my joy at 
finding him, in spite of his wound, in such excellent 
spirits. While we were thus conversing, we heard the 
rustling of straw on the opposite side of the room : it was 
a French officer who had been severely wounded and 
taken prisoner. He raised his seamed and ghastly face, 
and wildly staring for some time at my friend, he suddenly 
exclaimed : — " By all the devils, the Green Mantle of 
Venice ! I know the terrific being !" vociferated he, in 
the frenzy of his fever, tearing the bloody bandages from 
his dissevered head ; " the eternal night of death is the 
first day of the torments of hell." 

With these words, foaming at the mouth, he rent open 
with his hands the three sabre wounds in his shattered 
skull, sunk back with a heart-piercing shriek on the straw, 
and expired in frightful convulsions. I sprang up and 
hastened to him, but he was dead. 

Guilielmo recognised in him his old acquaintance the 
commandant, and related to me many of the atrocities by 
which he has doomed himself to eternal infamy. At this 
moment I was summoned to another room, where several 
more of my friends lay wounded : next morning, all such 
as could be removed were sent off to Prague, and thus I 
had no opportunity of obtaining an explanation of the 
mysterious expressions of the commandant. 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 167 

Some time afterwards my duty led me to Prague 
There I met with hundreds of acquaintance belonging to 
our army, who had been wounded and conveyed thither, 
and who were then, through the assiduous attention of 
the inhabitants, in a state of convalescence. So long as 
the history of my country exists, so long will it record, 
with the warmest gratitude, the humanity and kindness 
which the excellent females of Prague lavished on our 
sick and w r ounded. I inquired after Wilmsen, and was 
directed to a mansion, where, I was told, he had been treated 
as one of the family. I hastened thither; and there I 
found him, with an elderly gentleman on one side, and a 
most lovely girl on the other — Mr. Mellinger and Emme- 
line. They had arrived but a few days before, to convey 
home the young soldier, who was declared incapable of 
farther service. 

All his friends, and half the city, as he afterwards 
wrote to me, went as far as the inn above mentioned to 
meet him. He was the only individual of the place who 
had fought at the bloody battle of Culm under the vic- 
torious banners of German freedom. He was drawn in 
triumph into the town. The possession of Emmeline 
now rewards him. 



The assertion at the outset that the story which the 
reader has here perused is perfectly true, renders it in- 
cumbent on me to subjoin a few explanatory observations 
respecting those circumstances which seem to have been 
the effects of supernatural agency, and which might, per- 
haps, otherwise produce a mischievous impression on 
weak minds. 

Guilielmo was destined by his father to marry Emme- 
line, with her fortune of two millions of dollars. Though 



168 GHOST STORIES. 

he had no other attachment, he felt the greatest repug- 
nance to unite himself for life to a person whom he had 
never seen, merely for the sake of money, with which 
Heaven had already amply provided him, and without any 
reference to her person, or to the qualities of her heart 
and mind. 

Out of filial duty, and because his father and all the 
senior clerks in his counting-house assured him that old 
Mellinger was an able merchant, of whom much was to be 
learned, he left Venice to complete his mercantile educa- 
tion under that gentleman, and, at the same time, to see 
his daughter Emmeline. If he did not like her, he in- 
tended to acquaint his father frankly with his sentiments, 
and to beg him to relinquish his matrimonial speculation. 

Some stages before he reached the place where Mr. 
Mellinger resided, Guilielmo met with young Wilmsen 
from Bremen. As both were of a lively, open disposi- 
tion, they soon became acquainted, and went, on their ar- 
rival, to the same inn, where they had a room between 
them. 

Guilielmo had received directions from his father, who 
had apprised old Mellinger that his son was coming, to 
call upon the latter immediately on his arrival ; but, be- 
fore he went to his house, he determined to make some 
inquiries concerning him and Emmeline. He conceived 
that his object would be the more easily accomplished, if 
he were to assume the name of Wilmsen, who was too 
ill to quit his chamber. Wilmsen, to whom Guilielmo 
explained his reason for this change of name, and who 
received from him the utmost kindness and attention, 
could not refuse to pass for the rich Sponseri ; and thus 
the one was taken for the other. 

Emmeline, according to the information obtained by 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 169 

Guilielmo, was very beautiful and accomplished, mo- 
dest, good-tempered, and benevolent: in short, all concur- 
red in her praise. Some, it is true, added that she seemed 
to hold her head rather too high ; and others intimated 
that she had, indeed, had many admirers, but they sup- 
posed nothing short of a count or a duke would be ac- 
cepted. Of the father he heard nothing but what was 
bad : people went too far, perhaps, in their censure, and 
denied him a single good quality. The greatest part of 
his wealth, they said, was amassed by usury, extortion, 
and the most unjust means. They asserted, that when 
an opportunity for lucrative speculation presented itself, 
no consideration could deter him from engaging in it. 

Guilielmo, brought up in principles of religion and in- 
tegrity, resolved to have nothing to do with any of the 
family : though he might, perhaps, like Emmeline, yet 
her fortune could not bring any blessing along with it, 
since it had been unjustly acquired. He thanked Heaven 
that he had not introduced himself to Mr. Mellinger, and 
determined to return home ; but an accident changed his 
mind. 

On the birthday of his beloved mother, Guilielmo en- 
tered the cathedral and knelt down before the high altar 
to offer up his prayers for her happiness. On rising from 
the performance of this pious duty, his glance fell upon 
a female, kneeling at a little distance on the step above 
him, and wrapt in deep devotion. The fervent piety of 
her attitude and demeanour during the solemn service, 
and the exquisite beauty of her youthful face and figure, 
made an extraordinary impression upon him ; and he 
protested within himself that he had never beheld so 
lovely a creature. 

When the service was over, the stranger rose an J left 
15 



170 GHOST STORIES. 

the church. Guilielmo followed her at a distance. He 
saw her bestow charity on each of the cripples and men- 
dicants who beset the porch of the cathedral ; and siiently 
admired the gestures, the gait, nay, every movement, of 
the fair unknown. She turned into the street in whicb 
Mr. Mellinger resided. " If that" — thought Guilielmo, 
and smiled without finishing the idea, for was it not pos- 
sible that a hundred handsome young ladies might live 
in the same street with Mr. Mellinger ? She presently 
crossed over, with light step, to that side of the street on 
which the merchant's house stood. " If that were Em- 
meline" — thought he again, and his eye followed her 
with the most intense anxiety. As she approached Mr. 
Mellinger's, the neighbours all saluted her respectfully: 
she must live close by, that was evident. She stopped at 
his door — she knocked — Tobias opened it, and the angel 
disappeared. " If that were Emmeline," repeated he in 
a low tone, standing still, with nothing but Mr. Mel- 
linger's house in his eye, and nothing but the lovely 
stranger in his heart. He soon ascertained by his in- 
quiries that the latter was, indeed, no other than Emme- 
line. 

From this moment, his views were completely changed. 
With his wonted promptitude, he formed a plan for ob- 
taining admission into Mr. Mellinger's house under a 
feigned name, that he might become better acquainted 
with Emmeline ; and intending, if he could gain her 
affections, merely for his own sake, while she was igno- 
rant of his circumstances, to offer her his hand. He 
would afterwards employ all the means in his power to 
induce her father to abandon his unjust dealings, to make 
reparation wherever he had done injury, to restore all 
that he had not honourably acquired, and to become a bet- 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 171 

tor man. Then, indeed, he thought the blessing of Hea 
ven might rest upon his union with Emmeline. 

This plan was soon formed: in his opinion it was ex- 
cellent; but no small difficulties attended the execution. 
Upon some pretext or other, Guilielmo might possibly ob- 
tain access to Mr. Mellinger, once, twice, or three times, 
to speak to him on business, and there their acquaintance 
would end ; but as to seeing Emmeline, that was quite 
out of the question, as she usually sat in her own apart- 
ment, and her father received ah visitors who called on 
matters of business in his counting-house. 

The sudden death of young Wilmsen, by the rupture 
of a blood-vessel, suggested to Guilielmo, goaded by pas- 
sion and solicited for the reformation of Mr. Mellinger, 
the mad scheme with which the reader is already ac- 
quainted. He had heard the report that the counting- 
house was haunted, and he surmised that this notion might 
have originated in its vicinity to the church of the dis- 
solved nunnery. In this way, he conceived, and in no 
other, was it possible to work upon the old gentleman : 
how he was to proceed in regard to Emmeline he had not 
yet settled. 

The green mantle in which he appeared the first night 
to Mr. Mellinger belonged to Wilmsen. The dead hand 
was procured for him from an anatomical theatre, by a 
young surgeon, with whom he had become acquainted at 
the table d'hote, and chalk had done all that was neces- 
sary for his face. 

The porter at the Sun inn had seen the Green Mantle 
quit the house, but not come back ; for, after his appear- 
ance to Mr. Mellinger, Guilielmo returned to Wilmsen, 
with the mantle closely rolled up, and concealed under 
his arm. He spread it over the corpse, and thrust th© 



172 GHOST STORIES. 

receipt of Mr. Mellinger into the sleeve. The iron 
wicket to the church-yard was not opened from within, 
as the eyes of old Tobias had, in his fright, represented 
to him. 

The letter to old Sponseri was not forwarded to Venice, 
but given back to Guilielmo, on his application at the 
post-office. As he produced the seal and handwriting at 
the office, no scruple was made to deliver the letter to him. 

The letter from Venice, brought by express, was writ- 
ten and sent by Guilielmo to an acquaintance who lived 
on the road thither, with a request that he would de- 
spatch it by special messenger, and free of expense, to 
Mr. Mellinger. Guilielmo, when he took the trouble, 
could imitate his father's hand so exactly that nobody 
could distinguish the one from the other. The ob- 
ject of this letter was to confirm Mr. Mellinger in his 
belief of the reality of the apparition, and to strengthen 
the good effect produced by his words on the mind of the 
old gentleman. 

Without any precise plan, but merely in case he 
should have occasion to remind Mr. Mellinger of the 
apparition, Guilielmo had two other green mantles, 
made exactly like that which was buried with young 
Wilmsen, and in which the uppermost button was want- 
ing; he, therefore, cut off the top button of the other two. 
He then wrote, in a feigned hand, the Italian billet, with 
reference to the undue means by which Mr. Mellinger 
had accumulated the greatest part of his property ; tore 
it in three pieces, and shortly before the interment of 
young Wilmsen, put one of the fragments into the pocket 
of the mantle, which was buried with the deceased. 

He had not yet fixed in his own mind the purpose to 
which the two other mantles were to be applied. He 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 173 

hoped that some opportunity would present itself for his 
appearing again to Mr. Mellinger ; he would then leave 
the second mantle behind ; and, as all good things ought 
to be three in number, if the old usurer still persisted in 
his hard-hearted courses, he might visit him a third time 
and drop the third mantle : after which, in the character 
of Wilmsen, he would seek to contrive matters so that 
the first mantle should be dug up again, and the paper in 
it be compared with the pieces in the two other man lies. 
In this case he fully expected that the contents of tke 
whole paper would shake the inmost soul of the selfish 
and avaricious Mellinger, and produce the desired effect. 
He hoped to induce him to apply so much of his fortune 
as he had amassed by unjust means to beneficent pur- 
poses ; he would next endeavour, if, upon farther acquaint- 
ance with Emmeline he found the qualities of her heart 
to correspond with those of her person, to win her affec- 
tions under the character of a young man of no property 
— and then, and not till then, did he hope, that the wealth 
of her father, thus purified, would bring a blessing upon 
himself and Emmeline. 

The advertisement in the newspapers afforded him the 
wished-for opportunity of an introduction into Mr. Mel- 
linger's house. 

The appearance of the first green mantle was attended 
w T ith such beneficial effects, that there was no need for 
the other two. Guilielmo acquired, by his intelligence 
and usefulness, such an ascendency over the mind of his 
employer, which was deeply affected by the words of the 
supposed apparition, that, in the character of young Wilm- 
sen, he had occasion only for friendly remonstrances, or 
the observation that God takes account of all our actions 
and judges us accordingly, to keep his awakened con- 
15* 



174 GHOST STORIES. 

science in that path into which the Green Mantle had 
conducted it. - ^ 

The losses which befel Mr. Meliinger were a real cor 
dial to Guilielmo. He regarded them as circumstances 
that were indispensably necessary for purifying his pro- 
perty of his unjust acquisitions. What remained after 
these losses might, according to his ideas, be about as 
much as the old gentleman had amassed by honest and 
honourable means. The conversation on this subject be- 
tween him and Guilielmo, in which the latter dissembled 
his opinion merely for the purpose of sounding his em- 
ployer, served to convince him that Mr. Meliinger' s dis- 
position was really changed, and that he considered his 
losses as judgments of the Almighty. 

About this time Guilielmo had thoughts of discovering 
himself. He had, from the first, made his father ac- 
quainted with his plan and his motives for adopting it. 
Old Sponseri approved the latter, though, as a sober, se- 
date man, he could not exactly commend the contrivance 
of the apparition : but since what was done could not be 
undone, and as the affair had produced the best effect on 
the character of old Meliinger, he left his son to pursue 
the career he had marked out for himself, and to gain the 
affections of Emmeline under the name of Wilmsen. 
Sincerely, therefore, did he rejoice with his wife when 
Guilielmo wrote as follows: — "Now I am convinced bv 
a hundred little circumstances of Emmeline's attachment 
— now let Mr. Guilielmo Sponseri of Venice, with a hun- 
dred still more wealthy suitors from all parts of the world, 
repair hither to solicit her hand, I am confident that Em- 
meline will refuse them all, if poor Wilmsen of Bremen 
but says to her 4 Be mine !' Her father is a totally differ- 
ent man from what he was. All those who formerly 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 175 

hated him now speak of him with affection and respecL 
I shall very soon resign the name of Wilmsen to its de- 
ceased owner, and make my appearance as your son. I 
will declare to the father, the daughter, and the public, 
that I assumed it, to be sure that Emmeline loved me for 
my own sake, and not on account of the wealth with 
which Heaven has blessed us, and all will approve the 
innocent disguise. I shall only wait for a seasonable op- 
portunity to unmask, and I think I shall choose Emme- 
iine's birth-day, which is the last day of next month, for 
the purpose." 

The execution of this plan was prevented by the arrival 
of the corps cVarmee mentioned in the narrative. In 
ithose turbulent times a union with Emmelme was not to 
be thought of. It was more prudent, also, to pass, in the 
then state of political affairs, as the obscure Wilmsen,, 
than to avow himself the son of the rich Sponseri of 
Veniee, which was groaning under the same military- 
despotism. 

Guilielm© was incensed heyond expression by the 
suspicion thrown upon old Meilinger respecting the mur- 
der of the courier. He had -conceived a strong attachment 
to him on account of his altered conduct ; he deemed him 
incapable of the crime wkh which he was charged ; and 
was acquainted from experience at Venice with the ex- 
treme rapacity of the French generals : he knew that 
there were no means to which they would not resort, to 
fleece the opulent and to enrich themselves. He doubted, 
indeed, whether there was any design against the old 
man's life ; but then who could tell what was the real 
cause of his apprehension I The charge of having mur- 
dered the courier could not but be a mere pretext for secur- 
ing his person. Perhaps in some of his letters — and all 



176 GHOST STOKIES, 

letters were then opened — he had dropped a word respect- 
ing Napoleon or his agents ; an indiscretion which, for a 
man of his wealth, might be visited with the forfeiture of 
many thousands ; or — well aware of Mr. Mellinger's 
inveterate hatred to the French — he conceived that he 
might have been induced by it to enter into a prohibited 
correspondence with some person in Russia or Prussia, 
or even into contracts for the s>upply of the armies in those 
countries. In this case the military commission would 
not fail to pass sentence of death on him, and the whole 
of his property would be confiscated. He must therefore 
be rescued, cost what it would. Ingenuity, promptitude 
and decision, devoted friends, and the liberal application 
of money, were the spells by which Guilielmo, under the 
protection of Providence, accomplished the deliverance 
©f the old gentleman. 

The first thing he did was to engage one of his mos& 
intimate friends, young Carera, the banker, to invite the 
commandant to an entertainment at his country-house, six 
or seven miles from town, where the rest of the company 
who were in the plot, and consisted chiefly of convivial 
spirits, were to ply him so briskly with wine as to render 
him incapable of any kind of business. By this expedient 
Guilielmo gained time, and insured the absence of this 
wretch from the city. 

In the course of the afternoon, several officers rode over 
to obtain the necessary orders for examining Mr. Mellin- 
ger's papers ; but the commandant piqued himself on his 
cunning in having obliged Mr. Meilmger to give up the 
keys of his ehest, which he had at that moment in his 
own pocket, so that it was impossible for any suspicious 
papers to be removed. He therefore begged the officers 
to make themselves perfectly easy on that score, and to 



THE GREI2* MANTLE OF VENICE. 177 

sit down and fill their glasses, sagely observing that there 
would be another day after the present, and then they 
could go to Mellinger's house, rummage his chests, and 
turn every thing topsy-turvy. Carera and his boon com- 
panions, all devoted friends of Wilmsen's, loudly applaud- 
ed the ingenuity of the commandant, pressed the officers 
to join them, briskly circulated the bottle, and, to blind 
them more completely, inveighed against Mellinger as 
though they had been his bitterest enemies. 

Young Stark, one of Guilielmo's bosom friends, natu- 
rally quiet and reserved, and therefore neither remarked 
when pressed to attend such bouts as this nor missed 
when absent, hazarded a stroke which, had it failed, might 
have cost him his life. The commandant, incommoded 
by the heat of the day, and that occasioned by the old 
Chambertin and St. Perai, the Jurancon and Alicante 
which he had swallowed, complained several times of the 
tightness of his uniform. Stark jocosely brought him a 
light nankeen morning-gown belonging to the master of 
the house, and begged him to put it on, adding, it 
was but right that ne, as king of the feast, should be 
placed as much as possible at his ease. As the rest 
joined in this request, the commandant exchanged his 
cloth coat, heavy with gold,, for the more commodious 
gown, and again sat down to enjoy himself without 
restraint. 

Stark hung the uniform in an adjoining apartment, took 
Mr. Mellinger's keys out of the pocket, sprung upon 
Carera's English hunter, which was standing ready sad- 
dled, galloped to the town, and delivered the keys to the 
astonished Guilielmo, that he might remove all suspicious 
papers and secure the cash in the chest. 

Meanwhile Guilielmo had not been idle. Pafiasch, the 



178 GHOST STORIES. 

jailer, and Sergeant WoJlmar, had been induced, by a 
handful of gold apiece, to admit Guilielmo for a quarter 
of an hour to Mr. Mellinger. The latter had not the 
least notion of the cause of his apprehension. The report 
of the murder of the courier was now first communicated 
to him by Guilielmo, and he solemnly declared that he had 
not been engaged in any correspondence or intercourse 
whatever with the enemies of the French. He acknow- 
ledged, that at first he was quite confounded, but merely 
from terror at the suddenness of the event ; now, however, 
he felt more easy, being conscious that he had not com- 
mitted any offence, and confidently expecting that, on his 
examination in the morning, his innocence would be so 
evident that he should be set at liberty. Guilielmc> 
however, was not so sanguine. He observed that there 
had been instances enough, in which the French had not 
scrupled to sacrifice men quite as innocent as Mr. Mel- 
linger ; that it was a wery hazardous experiment to trust 
to their tender mercies ; and when once out of their 
clutches, his life, at least, would be safe. He therefore 
desired him to expect him at twelve that night, and to 
follow implicitly his directions. 

Guilielmo then sounded Pallaseh and Wollmar. The 
latter was luckily an infuriate enemy to the French, who 
thoroughly detested the mean, rapacious commandant. 
Guilielmo offered them large sums if they would assis 4 
him in his plans. Pallaseh was soon gained over. 
Wollmar, as far as regarded himself, was also well dis- 
posed to forward his views ; but he was at a loss how to 
secure the connivance of the guard under his orders, or 
how to screen them from the punishment that would in- 
fallibly await them. " If, indeed," added he, half in jest, 
" we could but trump up some ghost-story, and tell then* 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 179 

that a spirit had carried off the prisoner — the rascals have 
such thick heads you might batter down walls with them 
— they would believe any thing, and swear through thick 
and thin that they had even seen the spectre. Then, 
as to the commandant, he is only an old woman, who be- 
lieves in fortune-telling, astrology, omens, and all sorts of 
nonsense — and why should he not believe in a ghost-story 
too?" 

These words decided Guilielmo. He told them that the 
Green Mantle of Venice should effect the release of the 
old gentleman ; observing, that this was a spirit who was 
known to have already performed some feats in their 
town, and therefore the story would gain the more ready 
belief when it should be asserted that it was he who had 
liberated the prisoner. Guilielmo now hurried home to 
make further arrangements, with the special design to con- 
trive that the pieces of the paper deposited in the pockets 
of the three green mantles, and originally destined for Mr. 
Mellinger, but equally applicable to the universally exe- 
crated commandant, should fall into the hands of the lat- 
ter. On his arrival he found his friend Stark with the 
keys. The papers and books he left untouched ; because 
he was assured by Mr. Mellinger, that there was nothing 
suspicious among them. He took out all the money, ex- 
cepting about four thousand dollars, and then, putting the 
third green mantle into the the chest, he locked it, and 
despatched his friend with the keys. On the back of the 
piece of paper in the pocket of this mantle, a fragment 
of which, as we have seen, was buried with the first man- 
tle, he had hastily written in the same hand as the lines 
in front, the words beginning : " P alias ch and Wolhnar 
are innocent" 

To find these words in the inside of a strong iron cher 



180 GHOST STOEIES. 

the key of which had, as he believed, been in his pos- 
session ever since the first minute of Mr. Mellinger's ar- 
rest, might well have astonished a man of more good 
sense and firmness of mind than the commandant could 
pretend to. Who but a supernatural being could have 
known by anticipation that Pallasch would have any 
thing to do with the affair ? Who could have guessed 
the name of the person who would have the command of 
the guard ? The most incredulous would have been at first 
startled on making such a discovery. The lines had 
such an effect on the weak mind of the commandant, that 
he implicitly complied with the injunction of the terrible 
Green Mantle, and durst not say a single word on the 
subject to either Pallasch or Wollmar. 

Guilielmo, who imagined that Emmeline's first wish 
would be to see her father, and that their interview might 
be injurious to his plans, gave the strictest orders to his 
confidants, Pallasch and Wollmar, not to suffer her to 
enter the prison. He was himself admitted soon after 
eleven o'clock by a private way, and introduced, enve- 
loped in a green mantle, into the cell where Mr. Mellin- 
ger was confined. 

Betty Pallasch was purposely detained by the enter- 
taining stories related by her father and Wollmar, that 
she might be an additional witness of the appearance of 
the Green Mantle. Her father had, likewise, told her 
several times to go to bed, that she might state the cir- 
cumstance at her examinations ; and thus obviate all sus- 
picion of his naving intentionally kept her up, that she 
might attest this or that. The girl could, therefore, 
swear with a good conscience that she saw the spectre 
with her own eyes, and heard with her own ears his fear- 
ful words. 



THE GREEN MANTLE OF VENICE. 181 

Wollmar made up so dreadful a story to his soldiers 
about the Green Mantle, in which he was corroborated 
by Betty, that they, eager to catch at any excuse for their 
intoxication and drowsiness, were ready to swear the 
grossest falsehoods when brought before the commandant. 

Guilielmo had taken care to leave the green mantle 
containing the third fragment of the paper within the 
prison-door, which Betty had locked ; while he retreated 
with Mr. Mellinger through the side entrance, and pro- 
ceeded with all speed to the house of his friend Carera, 
at whose garden-gate a light travelling carriage was wait- 
ing, which conveyed Mr. Mellinger, furnished with pass- 
ports under a feigned name, to Raab, whence he proceed- 
ed to Smyrna. 

The sentry in front of the prison absconded, because 
Wollmar had given out that he would infallibly be shot, 
as he insisted that he had neither seen nor heard any 
thing of the apparition. He concealed himself in the city, 
and it was not till after the departure of the commandant 
that he quitted his hiding-place. 

Guilielmo had scented the two mantles with brimstone, 
and sprinkled them with vitriol, to give them the appear- 
ance of being in a state of corruption. 

Little Charlotte was brought a second time before the 
commandant after Mr. Mellinger's escape. It then came 
out that the old gentleman was perfectly innocent of the 
supposed murder of the courier ; and that the whole af- 
fair had originated in a mistake. The commandant was 
ashamed of having made so much ado about nothing, and 
fearful lest he should thereby incur public ridicule, he 
threatened the child with death if ever she disclosed a syl- 
lable concerning what had passed, even to her parents. It 
is probable, too, that he might be desirous of keeping up 
16 



182 GHOST STORIES. 

the notion of Mr. Mellinger's guilt, in order that he 
might have a plausible pretext for seizing his property. 

Guilielmo had procured a number of persons, by bribe- 
ry and various means, to depose to the fact of the body 
which was taken out of the water being that of old To- 
bias : the multitude went with them without reflection, 
and the officer before whom the depositions were taken, 
being one of Guilielmo's stanch friends, was not too parti- 
cular in his investigation. 

The billet which Emmeline received from her father, 
Guilielmo had that morning received from Smyrna, and 
he purposely sent it by an unknown messenger, at the 
time when he knew the commandant was with her. 

The courier despatched by the commandant to Venice 
had been anticipated by a letter from Guilielmo to his 
father, instructing him in what manner to reply. 

Mr. Mellinger's silence on the subject of his escape 
was occasioned by his having bound himself, by a solemn 
promise to Guilielmo, not to reveal what had passed till 
he should absolve him in person. This promise Guiliel- 
mo exacted with a view to secure himself and his house 
at Venice from the resentment of the commandant and 
his crew : and as Mr. Mellinger, on his return home, had 
not seen Guilielmo since his escape, he could not then of 
course have been released by him from his oath. He 
therefore only feigned at that time still to consider Gui- 
lielmo as poor Wilmsen. 

So much in explanation of the mysteries -of the Green 
Mantle of Venice. 



183 



THE GHOST OF GENERAL MARCEAU. 



The corpse of the French general of division, Marceau, 
who fell in the battle of Altenkirchen, in the year 1796, was 
conveyed to Coblentz, and there publicly exhibited, lying 
in state two successive days, after which it was solemnly 
interred on a hill near the city, called the Brunnenstube. 
This hill is directly opposite to the fortress of Ehrenbreit- 
stein, from which it is parted only by the Rhine. 

Scarcely had a fortnight elapsed, when a report was 
universally circulated that the General's ghost haunted 
the hill. Several persons declared that they had seen 
him distinctly, walking, between twelve and one o'clock 
at night, on the bank of the Rhine, in the chasseur uni- 
form, (which he had usually worn when alive,) and arm- 
ed with a drawn sabre. The sentries themselves, who 
were posted in that quarter, had actually been, at different 
times, obliged to fall back by him. The reflecting part 
of the inhabitants of Coblentz, indeed, suspected some 
imposture, but none of them had the heart to sift the mat- 
ter to the bottom. 

At length, there appeared a student, bold and enterpris- 
ing enough to attempt to cope single-handed with the 
spirit of this General, who, while living, had been distin- 
guished for his intrepidity. He went accordingly one 
moonlight night, about eleven o'clock, as he conceived, 
with due caution, all alone, to the place where the spectre 
had been frequently seen. His arrangements consisted 



184 GHOST STORIES. 

solely in arming himself with a sword and pistols, and in 
concerting with some of his comrades, that, in case he 
should not return by a certain time, they should go to his 
assistance. His friends, having waited for him in vain 
till two o'clock, began to be apprehensive for his safety. 
Another hour passed, and still he did not come back ac- 
cording to promise ; they then went in quest of him, but 
he was nowhere to be found. 

The morning began to dawn, when they met a messen- 
ger who had been sent off to them from the neighbouring 
village. They asked him if he had seen a young gen- 
tleman, describing him, anywhere on his way. He re- 
plied, that a person, no doubt the same after whom they 
were inquiring, was lying at Metternich in a violent fe- 
ver : if so, he was desired to inform them of the circum- 
stance, that they might fetch him away. They imme- 
diately hastened thither, curious to hear the history of his 
adventure with the spirit, and removed him to his own 
home. 

After the young exorcist had somewhat recovered from 
the vehement fright into which he had been thrown, and 
completely regained the use of his faculties, he related to 
them what follows : — 

" I had scarcely been a quarter of an hour on the bank 
of the river, before the spirit appeared in the well-known 
French chasseur uniform. I w r ent resolutely to meet it, 
with my drawn sword in one hand, and pistol cocked in 
the other. The spectre, not in the least daunted, ad- 
vanced straight towards me, and was not above six paces 
off, when a horror, that I cannot describe, all at once came 
over me. My blood curdled ; my courage failed me ; I 
dropped, involuntarily, both sword and pistol, and ran as 
fast as my legs would carry me to Metternich. I wished 



GENERAL MARCEATj's GHOST. 185 

several times to look back, to see whether the spectre was 
pursuing me, but for my life I durst not. Though I am 
still firmly convinced that this is not a real ghost, yet I was 
heartily glad when, quite exhausted, I reached the village, 
and had again some of my fellow-creatures about me." 

This awkward adventure, which soon became publicly 
known, excited a good deal of merriment, but yet not a 
creature manifested any inclination for a second rencontre 
with the apparition. 

The French commandant of Coblentz at length re- 
solved to investigate the matter more closely. His plan 
was, after posting sentries at every point, to go in person 
to meet the spectre. All his arrangements were made 
with the utmost secrecy, and every man was at his post. 
Scarcely had the clock at Coblentz struck twelve, when 
the spirit of the deceased General made its appearance. 
The commandant, whose heart was in the right place, 
made directly up to it ; and, at the same time, ordered 
the soldiers, posted at some distance, to advance. They 
surrounded the ghost, who, nevertheless, fought most fu- 
riously, till a brave grenadier, seizing him from behind, 
held him fast till his comrades, whom he cheered with 
the assurance that the spectre had flesh and bone, came 
up to his assistance. 

The incarnate spirit was taken alive, disarmed, and 
carried prisoner to Coblentz, where he was confined in 
the guard-house. At his examination, the next day, he 
confessed that he was a waterman, and that he had un- 
dertaken to act the part of General Mar^eau's ghost, in 
order that his comrades might, during his appearance in 
that character, cross the Rhine with greater security, and 
convey to the blockaded fortress of Ehrenbreitstein sup- 
plies of provisions, for which they received a high price 
16* 



186 



THE HAUNTED INN. 



[[The following story, which we recollect to have heard 
from an uncle of ours, more than thirty years since, will 
be perused by most of our readers with additional interest, 
from its evidently being the identical German legend on 
which is founded the opera of Bellini, " La Sonnambula," 
to which the talents of Malibran, Mrs. Wood, and Mrs. 
Seguin, have given such remarkable eclat.~] 

Robert was a rich innkeeper in a town on the Up- 
per Rhine. All at once, however, custom fell off; for 
travellers who had been in the habit of putting up with 
him, either avoided the place entirely, or preferred the 
inferior accommodations of another inn. The cause of 
this decline was, that his house was haunted by a ghost ; 
and what traveller, weary with his journey, would like to 
have his rest broken at night by the pranks of a spectre ? 

Sigismund, a distant relative, who had an eye on the 
fair Rosina, the only daughter of the host, had of late 
years been frequently in this house, either on visits to the 
family, or when travelling upon business. He slept always 
in the same room, in the upper story ; and there he made 
the discovery, so unlucky to his kinsman, that the house 
was haunted. 

One night, when all the family had retired to bed, Sigis- 
mund was roused by the spectre. Almost beside himself 
with terror, he rushed out in his shirt, ready to break his 
neck down stairs, and called up the master of the house. 
With difficulty Robert drew from him an explanation re- 
specting the cause of such vehement alarm. Having at 
length somewhat recovered from the fright occasioned by 



THE HAUNTED INN. 187 

the apparition, he gave the landlord the following ac- 
count : — 

" I was fast asleep, when a white, death-like figure 
opened my door, which I had locked before I went to oed. 
The noise awoke me. The spectre had a bunch of keys 
in one hand, and in the other a lamp which gave but a 
feeble light. It walked past my bed, paced the room 
several times, then set the lamp down on the table and 
slipped into bed to me. I endeavoured to cry out, but 
could not. Fear and horror paralysed my senses. God 
knows how I got out of bed without falling a prey to the 
hideous apparition !" 

The trembling Robert awoke his people, and he ven- 
tured, in their company and well armed, to approach the 
haunted chamber. He found the door fast : Sigismund, 
as far as he could recollect, had pulled it after him, that 
the ghost might have less chance of overtaking him in 
his flight. As the key had been left on the table that 
stood by the bed-side, it was found necessary to fetch the 
master-key before they could gain admission. This was 
accordingly done ; and all eyes looked round for the spec- 
tre, but in vain — it was gone. Sigismund, however* 
durst not resume possession of his deserted bed for the re- 
mainder of the night. 

Robert could not tell what to think of the story of his 
kinsman. He was too well acquainted with his charac- 
ter to suspect deception ; he supposed that he was not a 
great coward : he had, therefore, no just cause to doubt the 
accuracy of his statement. At the same time he was vexed 
when he reflected that the spectre might think fit to re- 
turn : his house would, in consequence, get a bad name, 
and his business might be ruined. To investigate the mat- 
ter more closely, he repaired the following night, accom- 
panied by his trusty servant Peter, well armed, to th* 



188 ghost stories; 

haunted chamber. He assigned to Feter the post of dar*- 
ger and honour by the door, while he himself took pos- 
session of an easy chair, at the remotest corner of the 
room. The great house-lantern, containing a Kghted 
candle, was placed on the table- 
Long did they thus wait in vain for the visit of the 
spectre. Both of them found it difficult to keep their 
eyes open, and nothing but the supposed danger of their 
enterprise furnished them with unusual powers of vigi- 
lance. Sleep nevertheless began to exercise its despotic 
sway o^er the landlord. Peter meanwhile heard, as he 
thought, something coming isp stairs, and imagined that 
he coraid distinguish soft steps. The effect on his sleepy 
senses was powerful and instantaneous. He gave his 
master notice of the impending attaek. Sleep, however, 
had completely overpowered the landlord ; and under 
these circumstances Peter deemed himself justified irs 
leaving his post, and rousing his master by no very gen- 
tle shake to the conflict. Both trembling drew their cut- 
lasses and took post behind the arm-chair. The spectre 
was already at the door, and the bunch of keys which it 
carried rattled like chains. The door opened, and the 
figure of a Kvirag corpse presented itself. It was covered 
from head to foot by a white shrood, walked' twice round 
the room?, and then glided with a deep sigh into the bed. 
Glad to see the coast thus fer clear, Robert seized the 
lantern and made a precipitate retreat downs stairs, not 
only leaving his arms in the possession of the enemy, but, 
in his haste, dashing the lantern with such force against 
the balusters that it was shattered to pieces. 

Peter, who, at the first appearance of the spectre, had 
squeezed his eyes together, and in his fright commended 
his soul to all the saints, had meanwhile sunk on the floor 
behind the arm-chair. He saw nothing, h?eard but little 



THE HAUNTED INN. 189 

of what was passing about him, and awaited his fate with 
patient resignation. The crash of the lantern, which 
should have recalled his senses, only served to increase 
his stupefaction. Fatigued and exhausted with terror, 
he sunk into the arms of sleep, and was found in the 
morning snoring at full length on the floor behind the 
arm-chair. 

Robert hurried back to bed, without undressing, and 
covered himself over head and ears in the clothes ; so low 
had his courage fallen. The cheering light of day, which 
dispels fear, and restores courage to the faint-hearted, 
once more raised Robert's spirits. Accompanied by his 
people, he went in quest of his lost attendant, to the place 
where he had left him. He rejoiced sincerely that the 
spectre had not bodily carried off the poor fellow. 

The adventure of the night was soon known to all the 
towns-folk. The more sensible of them laughed heartily 
at the landlord's absurd conduct, and called him a stupid, 
superstitious, chicken-hearted coward. This language 
soon reached his ears, and vexed him to such a degree, 
that he repaired to the burgomaster of the town, made 
affidavit of the particulars of the affair, and requested the 
magistrate to take measures for ascertaining the reality of 
the apparition, and the truth of his supernatural adven- 
ture ; that he might retrieve his lost honour in the estima- 
tion of the incredulous public. 

The magistrate complied with his request, and the 
town-sergeant was sent with four courageous fellows to 
pass the next night in the haunted chamber. Whether the 
spirit deemed its opponents in this instance too formida- 
ble, or whether it had actually decamped, so much is cer- 
tain, that it did not think fit to show itself to the party 
which was anxious for its appearance. The men repaired 



190 GHOST STORIES. 

to their post the two succeeding nights^ but the obsti- 
nate ghost was not to be seen. 

Robert had thus put himself to a usefess expense ; and, 
if he had previously been the talk of the whole town, he 
now became the butt of general ridicule. 

It was not long before Sigismund, m company with a 
friend, again passed through the place. He was informed 
that the spectre had terrified the landlord and Peter 
almost out of their lives ; and he resolved not to sleep any 
more at his kinsman's. The courteous solicitations of the 
fair Rosina, however, had great influence over him : he 
ventured once more to lodge under the same roof with 
her, but only on the express condition that he should not 
lie in the haunted chamber. 

His friend, however, desirous of an interview with a 
ghost, insisted on having a bed prepared for him in the very 
room which the spirit had been accustomed to visit. The 
landlord was not a little gratified to think that he had at 
last met a person willing to avenge, as he termed it, the 
honour of his house. 

Sigismund's friend took his measures with coolness and 
deliberation. He placed on the table by his bed a brace 
of loaded pistols, provided himself with a couple of can- 
dles, in addition to the night-lamp, went to bed uncon- 
cerned, slept soundly, and awoke next morning without 
hearing or seeing any thing of a spirit. He endeavoured 
to impress upon the mind of his companion the silliness 
of his fears, and begged htm as a friend to bear him com- 
pany the following night. 

Sigismund, sensible that his friend's exhortations were 
well-meant, plucked up a spirit and repaired with him al 
bed-time to his former chamber. Towards mid-night faint 
steps were heard ascending the stairs, and slowly ap- 
proaching nearer and nearer to the room. The same 



THE HAUNTED INN. 191 

pale spectre, dressed in white, which had terrified him 
once before, again made its appearance. Sigismund, over- 
whelmed with horror, never thought of the pistols, which 
lay near the bed, but again sought safety in flight, leav- 
ing his friend to cope by himself with the ghost. 

His fellow-traveller closely watched the apparition. It 
approached him; and he could not help shuddering, 
when he saw it preparing to get into bed to him ; he 
sprung out, and had a good mind not only to quit that, 
but, like Sigismund, to abandon the field altogether. On 
second thoughts, however, he mustered courage, seized a 
pistol in one hand, and a candle in the other, drew back 
a little, and thus awaited what was to happen. 

The ghost seemed to take no notice of its armed an- 
tagonist, but so much the more closely did he watch the 
apparition. It seemed to be of the female sex, to judge 
from the bosom, which was not very carefully covered. 
He approached nearer to the bed, on which the unwel- 
come visitor lay most quietly, and scrutinized its features. 
Heavens ! how agreeably was he surprised, to recognise 
in the slumbering figure the lovely Rosina ! For fear of 
disturbing the fair night-walker, he durst not, though 
strongly tempted, steal a single kiss, but softly quitted the 
room to call her parents and his friend. 

None of them, however, was in any hurry to obey the 
summons. The jocose and confident manner in which 
their guest spoke of his discovery, and a word which he 
whispered in the ear of the landlady, induced the latter 
to follow him alone to the haunted chamber, for the pur- 
pose of ascertaining the nature of the nocturnal apparition. 
Robert and Sigismund sneaked after the advanced guard, 
and, before they ventured to go into the chamber, cau- 
tiously peeped in at the door, while the mother's eyes had 
been for some time fondly fixed on her darling. She 



192 GHOST STORIES. 

knew from former experience that Rosina had a pre-dis- 
position to walking in her sleep, and she was too thorough- 
ly convinced of her virtue and innocence to attribute her 
being in such a situation to any other cause than that 
singular disorder. 

It was long before Robert would trust either the assu- 
rances of his better half or his own senses ; till at last Rosi- 
na herself furnished evidence too strong to be resisted. She 
quitted the bed with her eyes shut, took up the night- 
lamp which had gone out, and walked through the aston- 
ished company, who made way for her, out of the room. 
They followed her in silence, because they had either 
not had sufficient presence of mind to wake her at first, 
or because they wished to spare her the embarrassment 
of so awkward a situation. 

She found the way down stairs, to her chamber. All 
retired again to rest, and Sigismund, in particular, resumed 
the place which his Rosina had occupied with very dif- 
ferent feelings from those with which he had left it. The 
inference which he drew in regard to her sentiments to- 
wards him from her behaviour in the liveliest of all dreams, 
could not but be exceedingly flattering to him. Nothing 
therefore could prevent him next morning from making 
Rosina a formal offer of his hand, and explaining to her 
parents his further views. They had little to object, and 
the heart of Rosina still less. 

Thus the horror and apprehension of a supernatural 
visitation terminated in a joyous wedding, which was 
consummated in the same chamber where the innocent 
Rosina had twice filled her lover with inexpressible 
alarm. 

THE END. 



ALWAYS HAPPY; 



OB 



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